


Rough Patches

by IndelibleSpock



Series: Rebellious Spock [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alcohol, Alien Sex, Alternate Universe, Drug Use, Happy Ending, Jim Kirk Is an Idiot, M/M, Marriage, Original Character(s), Rejection, Sexual Violence, Starfleet Academy, alien dick? yes there's alien dick, hot for teacher, shameless references to russian literature, this is a pon farr fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 64,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26099674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndelibleSpock/pseuds/IndelibleSpock
Summary: Relationships are hard work. They're not all sunshine and flowers.A rather delayed continuation of"Rebellious,"a fic where Spock is a leather jacket wearing Vulcan who smokes weed and likes piercings and tattoos.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Rebellious Spock [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965283
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	1. Welcome Back

**Author's Note:**

> In this the year 2020, there is not much to be done but to revisit a couple of nerds that have stolen my heart. It's been 5 years since I first wrote that original fic. Not once has the idea of a Punk!Spock left my mind. Let's see where this one goes.

A man in a tuxedo was tapping happily on the piano, the tunes of “Sleigh Ride” danced through the lodge. Candles flickered along with the vibrant dancing and the all around merry making happening. Folks with glasses of eggnog roamed the room, visiting old friends.

The room was bright, warm, electric. The overall happiness of the mood however didn’t affect the man standing at the window next to the Christmas tree. He had eggnog, yes, but there wasn’t one bit of cheer lingering anywhere near him. 

A woman approached him, she placed her hand atop his shoulder hoping to give him some comfort. 

“James, come. Join the party. It’s no use to stare out the window.”

He felt overwhelmingly nervous. “Mom, he said he would be here.”

“And when he arrives, I’m sure you won’t miss it.” She steered him away from the cold glass and towards the fireplace where others were sharing stories. “Ever since you went to the academy I don’t hear much from you. At least humor me during this time of the year.”

A slight smile. “I know. I need to show my appreciation more.”

It was December. Iowa. The snow was late this year. As Jim Kirk stepped out under the gloomy sky, he saw none of it blanketing the ground. There was no shortage of flurries, but be damned if it wanted to stick. It was bleak, much like how he’d been feeling lately. It was Bones’ idea to go home for Christmas and New Years, to take the optional first winter session off. Jim fought the idea at first but relented. His old house, his old room. His old town. Perhaps he needed to face all the changes he made since joining Starfleet, including facing his mom who knew first hand how much the organization can change a person. She was once an officer, she knew how tough the academy could be.

They sat next to the fireplace on the leather couch. He hoped Spock would get there before the gift exchange began. He put a lot of thought into his gift for him. As for his mother, he wanted to show her that he could finally be at peace. 

“Tell me about him.”

Jim didn’t expect the question. 

“I...what do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“You can’t possibly.”

She laughed. “I haven’t met him. You haven’t told me anything. What am I supposed to do? Trust a ghost with my only son?”

“That’s why I want him here. I want to show you.” He sighed. “I have never felt so connected to somebody before. You’re really the only other person. Mom, he’s so...interesting. It’s like he lives to just piss off his dad or something.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I’m serious. His dad is the, and I mean THE, ambassador to Vulcan. You’d expect a guy like Spock to follow every rule set in place to make his father look good. But he doesn’t. He joined Starfleet. He does all these studies on people to see what makes them tick, and he tries to figure out why he acts the way he does--what are you laughing at?”

“You are head over heels for him. Just like your father was about me.”

It was always bittersweet hearing his mom talk about his dad, her love, her husband. He never really wanted to ask about him, his dad felt like sacred ground, only able to be stepped on by those who were blessed. 

“You think he’d be worried sick if you showed up to a party ten minutes late?”

“I think he’d have a meltdown.”

Jim looked at the door. His heart stopped. Spock was quietly removing his parka. His cheeks were green, chilled from the deep Iowa winter. Eyes darting around the room, Spock scanned all the guests, the food, the drinks, the paneling on the walls. He stopped when he saw Jim staring back. 

The two hadn’t seen each other in four months. Spock was called up to serve aboard a starship, leaving Kirk behind at the academy. It was rough for them both, but it was harder for Jim. He didn’t have the same mental endurance as Spock. 

“That’s him,” Jim nudged his mother. “Spock. That’s him. He’s here.”

She watched her son race over to the Vulcan, noting their slight hand hold. 

“I missed you so much.”

“Likewise,” Spock nodded. “It was far too long of a separation. My mind wandered and had no one to quell its meandering.”

“You? Having issues with meditating?” Jim’s eyes beamed, his struggles felt validated. 

“I prefer erasing all thought. But I relented and focused on the imagery my mind created.”

Spock looked up once more. All the attendees were worried about their own affairs. He was safe. 

“They were all about you, Jim.”

Jim wanted to throw himself into Spock’s arms. They still agreed that they wouldn’t show any sign of their relationship out in public. Even while apart, they kept their communication to a minimum, as not to spark curiosity amid the comms staff on board Spock's ship. 

“I need you to meet someone,” Jim pulled Spock over to the corner. “Mom, this is my … boyfriend. Spock. And this is my mom, Winona.”

Spock bowed low, showing his profound respect. He wasn’t sure if Kirk telling his mother about their relationship was against their rules, but he decided to ask about it at a different time. He was more curious about this woman. 

“Jim has spoken so highly of you. I am absolutely honored to meet you,” she returned his bow. “He said you’ll be staying with us through the year?”

“I’ve planned that, yes.” He turned to Jim, “if you’ll still have me.”

Jim saw the slight worry in Spock’s eyes. He wondered why he was hesitant. Had it been the amount of time they spent away from each other? It was one of Jim’s worst worries: Their time apart revealed that what they shared was only a fling and nothing more. Every time Jim thought about it, his heart started to ache. 

“Spock, I wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s Christmas.”

Christmas was not that of the 20th Century. Religion had no place in the current holiday, but it was respected. After years of rampant commercialism, Earthlings finally nixed the holiday as it was and returned it to celebrate family and friends. Of course the music and presents still existed, but each gift traditionally was hand-made. Replicated gifts were symbolistic of an insult.

Spock poured three cups of eggnog. He returned to the sofas near the fireplace where Jim and Winona were speaking animatedly. He thought back to his own conversations with his mother. While she showed emotion, she was still reserved. Jim and Winona were laughing, they spoke not only with their words, but with their movements. Smiles, hand waving, all these body motions that conveyed their thoughts. 

He now understood why Vulcans were called robots. 

“Is this going to be your first Christmas, Spock?” Winona happily took the glass of nog. 

Spock nodded, sitting next to Jim. “It will be my first proper Christmas, yes. My mother would gift me items, however-”

He looked around at the decorations. The holly, the wreaths, the lights. And then there was the tree itself. Handmade ornaments strung all over the plant. Lights that were carefully placed gleamed with bright hopes in the dark winter. 

“--decorations like these weren’t even a thought in my household.”

“Then I suppose we have some decorating to do,” she smiled. 

“You? You really want to decorate this year?” Jim set down his cup. He studied his mother, looking for anything that might be wrong. 

“Jim, for Spock’s sake. I think we can dig out the boxes in the garage. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun,” Spock nodded. He toyed with the idea of enjoyment, he’d been preparing for an emotion like this since Jim offered his home during Christmas. 

It wasn’t a large party. A tradition that brought together their county every year, it let people put aside their squabbles and celebrate each other. The nights were long, they were cold, they always seemed extra dark, but in this old lodge building that housed the city council, the warm glow of lights helped grow the human spirit. Every year the council hired a pianist and a choir for carols. The residents took part in a gift exchange. It wasn't a secret santa, but an exchange of gifts with friends in tandem while they shared their moments of happiness together. 

Jim was anxious to give Spock his gift. 

“You’ve been glancing at the chronometer multiple times,” Spock remarked.

They were alone now. Winona got the hint that Jim so she made sure to visit some of her neighbors. She was after all one of the planners for this function, making sure everyone was having a good time was her job. 

He blushed as he caught himself staring at the time again. “Sorry. I guess I’m not really here am I?” Jim laughed. “I really want to give you your gift.”

“And what is stopping you?”

“For one, it’s tradition to share gifts along with everyone here. I’m also er...nervous.”

Spock inched closer to Jim. Their thighs touched. “For what possible reason could you be nervous?”

Jim expected Spock to question nervousness itself, where he’d had to try to explain to the Vulcan the intimate details of the emotion. Yet Spock’s answer was so human, it didn’t warrant one. 

_Does he know what nervousness feels like? It’s one of the most illogical emotions there is. Why isn’t he asking about it? He’ll be all up in arms about infatuation, love, joy, hatred, but NERVOUSNESS?! What’s he hiding?_

“Jim?”

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m lost in my thoughts again. I-”

Spock brushed his lips against Jim’s. Jim danced his fingers along the Vulcan’s hand. 

Pulling away, Spock let the slightest bit of emotion escape: he bit his lip. “I’m sure I’ll appreciate whatever you’ve gotten for me.”

He felt the tears roll down his cheeks. Jim was crying. 

“Tears?”

“I’m really happy!” He pointed to the empty cups sitting on the table. “Also slightly drunk!”

Jim stood up, rushing over to the Christmas tree where he picked up a small box wrapped in gold paper and a blue bow. He held it out to Spock. 

“I made this. When I met your parents last year I asked a lot about Vulcan holidays and it got me thinking even more. So I had to ask your mom about some stuff too. I hope you like it. Well like it as in appreciate it.”

He took the gift, embedding how the delicate wrapping paper felt on his fingers. There was no tearing or yearning to get to the hidden treasure with speed. Spock undid the bow, he carefully undid every bit of tape and unfolded every crease. It revealed a small box, which Spock opened in a swift movement. 

Jim leaned over as Spock took in the object inside. He gently traced the alloy and inspected the crystal at the center. 

“I never would’ve expected to receive an IDIC, let alone a handmade one.”

It took weeks for Jim to make the IDIC. He first had to find a proper metal, one that would shine brilliantly and contrast perfectly with the crystal he was thinking of using. The alloy itself needed to have properties that in no way meant anything perverse or negative in Vulcan’s philosophies. It had to be a true IDIC, one that inspired. 

Jim leaned in, “so? Do you like it? I had a hell of a time finding the right cutter for the emerald. I wanted its facets to shine like pixels, like a data stream.”

“I will cherish this.”

Tears flowed down Jim’s cheeks yet again. In a rush of joy, Jim threw his weight onto his toes, falling onto Spock’s lap, hugging him and kissing him on the cheek. 

He wasn’t entirely sure how to be on the receiving end of this ornate show of emotion. He knew it was a sign of affection, of friendship, of love. Yet Spock only stiffened. He tried to hide the fact he was blushing. He pushed out every thought he had. 

“J-Jim? I must request--”

“Shit!”

Jim’s warmth disappeared. Spock was finally able to function again. He watched the blue eyes shut in disappointment and anger. 

“L-later. Just not here.”

Jim nodded in agreement. 

Jim laid another log onto the burning pile. He and Spock were in the backyard sitting around their small fire pit. The orange glow of the fire matched Jim’s intensity to kiss Spock once more.

“How have you been? You last messaged me two months ago. I was worried.”

Spock glanced at the human. His blue eyes were bright as ever, eagerness plastered all over his face. Spock wouldn’t admit it, but he missed seeing Jim yearning to hear him speak. 

“I meant to message you more. I was busy with research. That whole trip was - difficult.”

“How so?”

He rested his chin on his hands, staring into the fire. 

“Spock?”

At that moment, Spock wanted to give in to his emotions. He wanted to forget the walls he built or the restraints he lived by. But he also remembered the incident on board that ship, light years away from Earth. 

The fire brought him back to his small room aboard the ship. He was trying to meditate. The candles flickered, their dancing flames ignited an idea. Give in to his human side. 

That meditation session left him in the hospital ward. His body tried to compensate for the rush of endorphins. There was no baseline for him. Spock’s body had no clue what to do as he let the endorphons rush in. It terrified him.

Spock wondered if all his attempts to repress any emotion hindered any chance at expressing something for Jim. He felt that it was only logical to reciprocate Jim’s feelings. How far Spock could go with that was a mystery. How had his father done it? How does he live with a human wife?

“I must admit, serving on a Starship is fascinating. I learned many things. Many things for my duties here. I learned how--”

Jim placed a hand on Spock’s knee. Spock realized it was a comforting motion, one that humans used to show their support.

“I learned how my emotional manifestations may supersede my body’s physical capabilities.”

“What does that mean?”

“If I do subject myself to emotional expression, I am not certain my body could cope with the ramifications.”

Jim gave Spock a small squeeze. “Then do one of your experiments.”

“I did.”

Spock explained to Jim what happened. He was horrified to hear how a simple feeling could land a person in a hospital bed.

“Jim, it’s naturally occurring to you. Your body implicitly handles the chemicals emotions produce. Emotions aren’t simple. Far from it. Evolution curtails these chemical changes in Vulcans. It doesn’t happen.”

“And if it does…” Jim trailed off. “Spock, you’re half human. You should--” He stood up, turning his back to Spock. It was his turn to stare into the flames. 

“Spock, this sounds like you’re breaking up with me.”

“How so?”

Jim turned to him, the fire reflected the tears streaking his cheeks. “You’re saying you can’t be emotionally involved with me.” He turned away once more, refusing to see Spock’s reaction, or rather, lack thereof.

“However, I did not say I’d stop trying.”

He stood behind Jim placing his hands on his shoulders. He leaned in close enough where their bodies were barely flush against one another. But it was enough for Jim. 

“If I ever hurt you, intentionally or not-”

“I will make sure to communicate that to you, Jim.” Spock slid his hand down Jim’s arm and grabbed his hand, interlacing his fingers. He felt this was a safe place to let his guard down. The darkness enveloped the two like a warm blanket. Spock wrapped his other arm around Jim, pressing the human against him. He kissed the crook of his neck. 

The heat radiated throughout Jim’s body. He really didn’t need the fire anymore to quell the bitter breeze. The kiss startled him, but it was welcomed. It was insurance that Spock wasn’t going anywhere. Jim raised his interlaced hand and kissed their fingers. 

“This is highly out of character.”

Jim imagined Spock shrugging. 

“Perhaps.”

He let go of Jim’s hand, walking in front of him. Jim shivered as Spock’s body blocked the fire’s heat from reaching him. Back at the party, Jim refused to really give Spock a looking over. He felt that if he did, he’d spend the entire event blushing. Jim didn’t want to explain to the entire county why he was gushing over a classmate from the academy. Now alone, he finally studied the Vulcan. 

Jim of course couldn’t hide the fact that he was looking at someone who sexually excited him. He bit his lip looking at Spock’s, his cheeks turned red hot when he saw the condensation from his breath lingering in the air. His fists clenched, albeit in disappointment when he noticed the regulation haircut. 

“Spock.”

And Spock was distracted from doing the same. He noted how Jim’s hair was darker, how he stood straighter, how his eyes still shone with innocence. Jim was like a piece of pointilism to Spock. Every small detail was insignificant in its significance. Flashes of raw power, holding Jim down, grazing his teeth over the sternum, a deep breath slowly coming to fruition…

“Spock!”

He blinked as Jim was staring up at him, curiosity plastered across his face.

“I apologize.” Spock cleared his throat, trying to regain control. “I uh-”

Jim smirked. “You were fantasizing. I know that look. I know it. I’ve seen it on so many species’ faces that not even a Vulcan can fool me.”

Spock rolled his eyes, a motion he became quite fond of after his captain had responded the same way to his inquiries multiple times. After a couple weeks, he even asked his captain why he chose to roll his eyes in response: “I hear what you’re saying Mr. Spock, but I also want to ignore it.”

What better way to engage humans.

His eye roll was met with laughter. 

“I can’t believe you just did that!”

“Did what?”

“You? Rolling your eyes?”

“I have no idea what you’re speaking about.”

Jim pressed his lips against Spock’s. “I missed you. I don't know what it is, but I felt so incredibly empty.” He kissed him again. “Spock I felt unbearably alone. It wasn’t until this very moment that I felt normal again.”

Spock stayed silent. He pondered. “Fascinating.”

“Huh?”

“Perhaps with my head at yours…,” he mumbled. “I’m slightly concerned.”

He held Jim’s hands, still wondering if his own issues aboard the ship were attributed to what he was hypothesizing. The two only melded once, and even that couldn’t be considered a full meld. Spock built up walls to protect his own privacy from an inexperienced mind, and he barely prodded Jim’s memories or experiences. It was a meld for the moment. But ever since that so-called meld a little more than a year ago, Spock noticed the two grew closer. There were indeed moments where he felt as if he knew what Jim was going to say. He felt his aura, albeit not as much as he did whenever they kissed. 

He was worried, an imparted human emotion from Jim, that he went too far. 

“Spock, whatever it is I’m sure it’s fine. It’s not like you’ve hurt me or anything.”

Spock nodded. A possible confirmation. Jim could feel him as well.

“I was just considering the possibility.”

Jim tilted his head, his sentence falling flat. “I could tell.”

The two stared at each other, still holding hands. The intensity at which Spock was staring at Jim was shocking. He didn’t think Spock’s eyes could get any darker, but they bore into him fiercely like thick smoke. It wasn’t possible to escape. 

Jim pulled at Spock’s parka, pulling them down onto the wooden chair. He’d been waiting for this moment, for Spock to loom over him once more. He grabbed the back of Spock’s neck, pressing his lips against his own. He forced his tongue into Spock’s mouth, happy knowing he still had a tongue ring he could play with. 

Spock reciprocated with a groan. He clenched his hand around Jim’s. The spark between them ignited once more. Jim’s bright honey-like spirit clashed against Spock’s dark smouldering aura. 

It was a feeling that the two were still trying to figure out. They rarely passed tender kissing sessions that didn’t last more than five minutes. Jim didn’t want to make Spock uncomfortable, so he never asked to go farther. It was still their agreement: take it slow. The meld was an exception. 

Perhaps a mistake.

It was overwhelming at times. Spock’s aura still flooded Jim’s entire existence with acute efficiency. He felt his presence down to his fingertips, to the ridges of his fingerprints. Jim couldn’t help but gasp a few times, was he physically out of breath, or was his mind playing tricks on him?

Spock noticed. He pulled away, by this point he was straddling the human, unbuttoning his coat. 

“I can’t breathe.” Jim clutched his chest.

“Jim?”

Spock removed himself from any sort of physical contact with Jim. He backed away, using the fire as a barrier. 

Jim ripped off his coat and threw it to the ground. He ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t know how to handle himself. Jim stood again, walking around the bench trying to cope with the flood of emotions he was experiencing. His arousal was still driving him high into the sky, while his disappointment at the situation was trying to ground him. But his intense fear was starting to make him panic. 

_We weren’t doing anything that we haven’t done in the past! We’ve done this before! Why now? Why is this so stupidly fucking hard! I just want to kiss him! I want to hold him! I want to fuck him! I want to express myself! Why is this happening!?_

It was difficult for Spock to watch. He hadn’t a clue how to respond. The questions he was asking himself were nearly identical to Jim’s. In all of this illogical mess, none of it made sense. He wished he had more guidance.

He could see Jim was still highly aroused, his intense emotions were flooding the crisp night air as he was trying to come back down. Spock managed to achieve his own arousal, but for him, the high was fleeting. 

“Jim?”

The human grabbed the back of the chair. His eyes were filled with tears. “Why is it so difficult to love you!?”

Jim didn’t wait for an answer. He knew there wasn’t one. The back door slammed shut as Jim had hardly any spatial awareness left. 

Spock, alone, stared into the fire once more. Scrying wasn’t going to help. He grabbed the bucket of sand and put out the flames. He sat on the cold ground in the dark, focusing on the stars above.

“Jim?”

Winona had been sleeping. She ventured out of her room when she heard Jim shout. She saw her son flushed with embarrassment, with failure, flashes of anger and sadness.

“James, oh my god, what’s wrong?”

_Of course my mother has to witness this._

He shook his head. His breath was finally back to normal. He felt less hot. 

Jim laid his hands flat on the kitchen counter, the painful lump in his throat was coming back, but he didn’t want to cry in front of her. 

She listened to her son explain. This situation felt all too similar: A friend confessing to her in the mess hall on board a starship in the middle of unoccupied space about a complicated relationship. It was hell for Winona to hear it from her son, but at least she felt prepared.

“James, relationships are difficult. Interspecies relationships are not easy. Let alone romantic ones. It’s not like staying in Iowa where most of the population is human. You’re interacting with species from the wildest places in the galaxy. A stew of creatures, cultures-”

“Mom.” He sighed. “Please. At the risk of you sounding like some of my professors, stop.”

He was still embarrassed. She nodded. 

“Look, give it time. You’ve spent a while apart. Get used to each other’s company again.”

Jim quietly went to his bedroom. He locked his door, of which he hardly ever did. It was humiliating standing in that room, he hoped to have fallen asleep with Spock lying next to him.

Winona quietly opened the back door. She turned on the deck lights, which revealed Spock sitting on the ground. 

“Spock, I do wish you’d come inside.”

He was trying to meditate, but it wasn’t fairing well.

“I prefer to be out here.”

“While you’re here, I’m responsible for you. And I know enough Vulcan biology to know you’re not equipped to handle a winter’s night in Iowa. It’s 10 degrees right now, you’ll freeze.”

Spock decided not to fight her decision. There was no logic in going against the wishes of a host. 

“For someone who can hold tree pose for ten minutes you’re absolutely fidgety.”

It was mid-morning. The clouds built up later that night, building to a chance of snow later in the day. Winona had been up early connecting with her friends from other parts of the world. Her day started well, waking up happily knowing she put Spock to bed without a fuss. He appeared downstairs as she was about to start her morning yoga practice. Before Winona could offer, Spock left and returned wearing nothing but leggings. He placed his mat next to hers.

“I’ve never received a haircut like this.”

After yoga, Winona shared breakfast with Spock. He was pleasantly pleased with her choice in foods, no meat in sight. He asked her if she was vegetarian. She told him she hated starting the day with heavy meals.

They had a plate full of citrus fruits and a side of yoghurt. Spock still hadn’t put on a shirt, which gave Winona a reason to finally ask Spock about his tattoo. It wasn’t at all a mystery why Jim thought Spock was attractive. Winona admitted to herself that Spock was a handsome man. It led her to asking more questions, like how he ended up with mismatched hair.

“My captain did not entertain the original style I had.”

So when Jim walked into the kitchen mid morning he stopped. Before he could gather what was actually happening he only saw his mother holding a pair of scissors over Spock’s head.

“I’m sorry, but am I still dreaming?”

Winona looked up from the strands of black hair. “Of course not. We’re just tidying things up.” She placed her fingers on Spock’s head, correcting his head tilt. “Now I told you to stop fidgeting, you’ll make me mess up your hairline.”

“It is not fidgeting, it is more like a slow progression.”

She sighed. “You sound just like my husband.”

Winona and Jim locked eyes. She rarely spoke of him so casually.

“Mom?”

She smiled.

“Why are you giving my boyfriend a haircut?”

It was time for Spock to lock eyes with Jim. After last night’s events, he was unsure how they would proceed. 

“Well, I offered and Spock let me.”

Jim was thankful. Spock was starting to look normal again with the sides of his head shaved. It wasn’t until Jim was facing the replicator that he realized he was sitting shirtless in his mother’s kitchen. 

“Why is my boyfriend sitting shirtless in my mother’s kitchen?”

A chuckle.

“We practiced yoga this morning.”

Jim set his plate of french toast on the counter. He took up a bar stool, observing them. 

“Your mother is a very gracious hostess, Jim. If I were inclined, I would be happily content.”

They tried to push past the inevitable that morning. Jim knew it was a conversation they would need to have, yet it wasn’t the time. Besides, he’d been craving this particular replicator recipe for months. A difficult conversation would spoil it.

Spock thought Jim’s lack of response was curious. He’d have to ask about it later. 

“I thought maybe today we’d take out all those decorations and start making the house feel more festive.”

Winona brushed off Spock’s shoulders. She admired her quick work, then sat next to Jim. “I can start here if you two want to get a permit for a tree.”

“A real tree inside the house,” Spock questioned. 

“Been home a week and you’ve found an excuse to get me to leave?”

“I’m finding an excuse for you two to have a grown up conversation with retrieving a tree as a vehicle for it.”

Jim set his fork down, french toast wasn’t very appetizing anymore.

“Gee, thanks.”

Flurries started as the two wandered the spacious tree farm. Jim had an axe slung over his shoulder, scanning and plotting any potential trees that appealed to him. Spock was in tow, but he kept his distance. They didn’t talk much on the way. 

“What are your requirements for the perfect tree,” he asked. 

“Perfectly conical. Perfect limbs. Hearty. I remember we have a bunch of ornaments from over the years. It has to hold.”

It was intriguing to watch Jim in his element. When he first saw Jim at the academy, Spock didn’t think he’d be cut out for Starfleet. He perceived Jim to only care about its social aspects. And when Jim became comfortable on campus he tugged along more books. He sat in the library researching. Before Spock left on his assignment, Jim rarely went out. Yet through his transformation into a cadet, Jim still didn’t seem to be Starfleet material. 

During their trip, Jim never asked for reassurance. He scanned, he measured. He marked plot numbers without a single missed beat. Spock wondered how he could capture that confidence for Jim’s studies. 

“This one here, it looks to meet your requirements.”

Jim kneeled down inspecting the trunk. “The bark would clash with the living room.”

“The bark?” Spock raised a brow.

“Yes the bark.”

His irritation cut through the cold air. All Jim wanted was to get the stupid tree and go back home. He hated the darkness, he hated the snow, he hated having Spock follow him around with no real purpose. He didn’t even want to look at him.

Jim walked up to another promising candidate. He liked the nettle patterns and its shade of green. This was currently number 1. 

“Jim, you’re fixating.”

“I’m not fixating.”

Spock folded his arms, watching the human inspect every bit of the plant. “Would you really be making this much effort if I weren’t here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re fixating.”

Jim sighed, anger peppering the groan that went along with it. 

“You’re ignoring the real purpose of this outing.”

“What? That we need to talk about last night? That I need to confront how absolutely humiliated I feel? No thanks.”

He backtracked to another tree for comparison. 

“Why do you feel humiliated?”

“I don’t know Spock, maybe because it felt like failed sex?” He grabbed the handle of the axe and started swinging. “Despite all the feelings and the passion, it was like I couldn’t achieve an erection and to top it off it was embarrassing to stop and then have a panic attack. We didn’t even have our jackets off. Spock, WE have never even had sex! Yet I’ve never been so overwhelmed like that. But you wouldn’t understand any of it.”

Every hit splintered the wood, satisfying Jim with his pent up anger at the situation.

“Then maybe you need to be the one in control.”

“And potentially hurt you?”

The tree fell to the ground. 

“If there wasn’t a half-assed mind meld in place none of this would be an issue.”

The phrase caught them both off guard. Spock knew it was that same half-assed mind meld that imparted some of Jim’s traits in Spock. He just didn’t know how much. 

Jim gave Spock a slight smile. 

“Half-assed?”

Spock avoided eye contact. “Continue fixating on your tree.”

“Well now I need help carrying it back to the truck.”

Spock grabbed the trunk, lying it atop his shoulder. Jim grabbed the top of the tree and led the way.

“Jim, if not hurting me is so important to you then maybe entertain the idea that I am the wrong person to wield the reigns of this relationship.”

“The point was for you to figure out your boundaries. I didn’t think I had any.”

“Until last night.”

“You know what you did to me? You were all over me. You. Your presence. That smouldering heat smothered me. I didn’t know what to do or how to handle it. Did I like it? I loved it. I thought I could handle that intensity. We’ve done this before! I’ve felt you all over me like that! What we were doing last night wasn’t anything new!”

Jim stopped walking. He let the top of the tree fall to the ground. Spock dropped his end as well. 

“Tell me Spock, what was different than the last time we did that? The last time you were on top of me?”

“I was actively melding with you that time.”

He spun on his heel, his eyes swollen with tears. The dry air wasn’t helping either, they were red.

“Your half-assed mind meld? That? The thing that was so pleasurable. The thing that let me feel all of you and your thoughts and even the smallest repressed emotions you hide? The thing you’re supposed to know how to work? That?”

“Separation anxiety was not a result I considered upon leaving for four months.”

“Separa--?” Jim grabbed tufts of his own hair. He felt like he was going to have a mental breakdown. He trusted Spock with his mind, yet that couldn’t even go right. What part of their relationship could be normal?

Spock ripped off his gloves. It was a slight outburst, but an emotional one. He wasn’t proud of it. 

“Come here.”

“And do what?”

“I can fix all of this. Make you forget you had feelings for me. Reverse course.”

Jim rushed at Spock. He grabbed the Vulcan’s wrists raising his hands to his face. “That’s the last thing I want!”

“What do you want, then?”

“I want you. I want this relationship to work! I’m fucking crazy about you, Spock! I just want a normal fucking relationship where it doesn’t take the same amount of energy of a quasar to handle it!”

Spock placed his fingers on the meld points of Jim’s head. He asked for Jim’s consent. Spock carefully sat them both down. The sweet honey aura encapsulated him. 

This time there were no boundaries. They would truly be one being, sharing all thought, all experiences. Spock started to cry with Jim who was so adverse to the idea of losing Spock he never once let go of his wrists. 

“This link we share. The intensity wasn’t supposed to be. It shouldn’t have been a product of our first meld. There are very few people who share this kind of bond, Jim.”

“Th’y’la,” Jim whispered.

“This bond should have been built, it doesn’t spontaneously appear. Something happened during our first meld. I don’t know what.”

“We sexualized it.”

Spock felt a wave of disappointment. It was his own that reverberated through Jim. It was a major mistake. He should have refused Jim’s requests.

“Spock, please don’t feel guilty.”

He finally could put a definition to the word. 

“I specifically remember putting up safeguards not to hurt you.”

“And you didn’t hurt me! Besides if there’s any blame I should take credit. You’re inept at empathy. I’m inept at telepathy. I understand this -- US -- now.”

Jim opened his eyes. Spock’s face was wet with tears. He didn’t think Vulcans possessed the ability, but here was Spock experiencing every bit of Jim’s emotions. 

“I’m so sorry Spock. I shouldn’t have pushed you. If I knew. If I fucking knew this was even a remote possibility-”

“I’m sorry that I’ve made you dependent on me. And without knowing so, I left.”

Jim let go of Spock’s wrists. He continued to admire the Vulcan in his vulnerable state. Spock didn’t retain his stoic presence. His face softened, his body was less rigid. Out in the middle of Iowa, he had no one to impress but Jim. And Jim was sharing every bit of himself. 

“All of your insecurities have no merit, Jim.”

They sat there until the snow started falling at an accumulating rate. Spock released Jim from his meld, but there was no snap into reality. The two’s bond weakened, but it was intact. Jim felt comforted. It wasn’t like their first meld. No anxiety about Spock being out of his sight. Jim was about to express how tired he felt, but Spock silently hauled the 8 foot tree over his shoulder. 

“I’d drive and save you the energy, but I’ve never operated an old world vehicle. This will have to do.”

It was actually the first time Jim witnessed Spock’s sheer strength. 

“Vulcans’ strength is far superior to humans.” He started walking back the way they came. “Save your energy Jim. I don’t mind having a one-sided conversation with you.”

That evening was calm. The two came back to a fully decorated house. It was the first time since Jim was 14 that the walls were decked. Small snowmen, elves, snow globes, ribbons, the merriest decor filled the house’s entirety. He was happy. 

Jim never verbalized what happened to his dad. Spock didn’t care to ask as it was never his business. He knew the story and that was the end of it. He knew quite well how much these decorations meant. 

Everything was lost in that ship’s explosion, but since it was Winona’s only goal to give her child happy memories during what could have been the most depressing time of the year, she set out on a mission. Her husband collected trinkets on away missions. He brought a cozy feeling of a midwestern Christmas to the ship. His duties as first mate allowed him to build community not only with the bridge officers, but down to the lower decks where engineers scrambled over subroutines. She wanted to embody that same dedication to her son. Winona collected trinkets on her own outings. She brought back items that she remembered lining the decks of the USS Kelvin. 

It was Jim’s and Spock’s job to decorate the tree. As exhausted as Jim was he couldn’t help himself from laughing at Spock’s situation with the lights.

“You’re a scientist right?” Jim smiled. “You can wrap your head around quantum mechanics, string theory, the fact the universe is exponentially growing, but Christmas lights. Christmas lights are your enemy.”

Spock had spent the better part of ten minutes trying to untangle the mess. He was about to give up. 

“There must be a better lighting option.”

Jim’s laughter was heard throughout the entire house. It overjoyed Winona. 

“Hey, Merry Christmas.”

Bones held up a glass of rye whiskey, while Jim held up a bottle of IPA. 

“A toast! To Marry, Joseph, Jesus, but the most important-” Bones took a swig. “-This sweet sweet bottle of rye from good ole Saint Nick.”

“Hitting it hard and sweet?”

“I have nothing better to do.”

Jim was in his room with nothing better to do as well. Spock was researching for the next term, so Jim decided to call Bones. It was Christmas Eve, a night where Jim normally would be sitting in the bar drinking away any thought while moaning on about his miserable life to the bartender who would return the same sentiment. It became a ritual, as every holiday the bar regulars would gather together. But tonight, the snow was falling, the wind was howling. The skies and roads were off limits to casual travel. Jim for once abided by the rule.

A call to Bones was a better way to commiserate.

“I can’t imagine a better way to waste the hours away.”

“I can,” Bones finished off his glass. “At least you’ve got your family. You’ve got that blasted sentient computer with you too. Where’s he at? I thought you said it was blizzarding.”

“Working,” Jim rolled his eyes. “I think he’s finally bored.”

“Bored? No, you don’t say.”

“What about you? I thought you said you’d try and go back home. From the looks of it you’re still in San Fran.”

“I gave it a thought and then I remembered how much of a shit show it is back there.” He paused and sighed. “Actually, I’m making a trip to visit patients at the hospital in my home town. Let them have someone to talk to for a change.”

“That’s a kind thing to do, Bones.”

He smiled and poured another glass. Bones was on his third by this point in the evening. He was wondering if he should finish the bottle before leaving for Mississippi. 

“Jim, question for you.”

“What is it?” 

“How do you get Vulcans drunk?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “No.”

“What?!”

“No!”

There was a soft closing of the door. Spock grabbed a chair. “Chocolate, interestingly enough.”

“Oh really?” Bones grinned devilishly.

“I do not care for it, otherwise,” Spock raised a brow, “I would partake in this Christmas Spirit of yours.”

Bones laughed. “That’s a joke, right? I didn’t think you’d consider merry making.”

“If it comes down to showing respect and being polite, I would consider. However Leonard, your character is far from deserving respect since you are crude, callous, and actively trying to sabotage my staff-wide poll regarding efficiency.”

Jim looked at them both. “A poll?”

“He put out a poll to the entire student staff asking a bunch of inane questions. Spock, we’re starfleet, we’re not some defunct late-stage capitalistic corporation bent on cutting corners.”

“I merely think-”

“Stop thinking for once and roll with it!”

Spock gave a curt nod. “Roll with it. So, let things happen without interference.”

“Not to sound crude, but you need to stop poking your nose into everything. Not everyone and everything is going to respond positively to that.”

“So I should ignore you when you are carelessly drunk and treating a patient at the same time?”

Jim facepalmed. “Er, that’s where the intuition is supposed to come in.”

Bones laughed, “look man, I gotta transport to get to. Jim, I suggest you teach this kid what intuition means.”

He winked before disconnecting.

Spock felt Jim’s embarrassment. It was a warm feeling, rising up from his very core to his cheeks. It was at first alarming, but knowing it came from Jim it felt suddenly comforting to know what he was feeling.

“So that is truly what blushing feels like.”

Jim groaned. “God damn it, Bones.”

“I don’t see the issue here.”

“He knows I just want to fuck you. And him saying that in front of me and in front of you--”

Jim laughed, a bit of nervousness reverberated through. 

Spock only nodded. “I mean, I feel that as well. You’ve admitted multiple times in fact. If that’s the so-called intuition he’s speaking of.”

He watched Jim for some outlandish emotional response. He only smiled and sat back in his chair giving more attention to his bottle of beer. It was a spruce ipa, which Spock couldn’t fathom how a beer made from pine trees would taste remotely good. Yet Kirk sat and drank, staring out the window to his right. The snow was falling at a dizzying rate. It was the most snow Spock had seen fall since arriving to Earth. 

His attention drifted from the weather to Jim’s hair. Not as short or neatly trimmed, presumably because of the holidays. Jim normally tousled his hair, but as of late he was letting it fall flat. There was no one to impress as Spock didn’t care. 

Yet Spock spent so much time looking at Jim’s hair he was questioning whether he did care about Jim’s looks. Or perhaps his lack of hair care meant something else was on the mind of the second-year cadet. 

Four months was a long time. When Spock left Jim, he felt hardly fit for the position he was requested of. Now, he felt he could easily be a commonplace bridge officer. Jim on the other hand was still in the very beginnings of his career. Entry level courses for a second-year: formalities, protocols, mechanics. Jim shared all the new things he was learning, eager to attain proficiency. Spock wondered where Jim was now. 

Their bond weakened considerably since they melded the second time. It was bearable for Jim, and reasonable for Spock. The two could still pick up each other’s nuanced feelings about situations, but direct lines of thought and speech were not attainable. Jim leaned over and rested his head on Spock’s shoulder. 

“You know what I like best about nights like this? The lights are dimmed and warm, the snow is falling which makes everything feel more silent. Everyone is cozied up in their blankets or with those they love, maybe there’s candles flickering, who knows… You can sit and stare at me all night Spock and I wouldn’t give a damn. However, it feels like you’re interrogating me.”

“Not in the slightest.” Spock raised his hand and delicately ran his fingers through the strands of hair he studied. “Only curious.”

“Yeah?”

“How have you been? I feel like this should have been asked on our first night together, if what happened didn’t happen.”

“Where should I start,” Jim raised his head and put his bottle on the table. He threw off his sweater, revealing a black undershirt. “It’s been a clusterfuck. I mean it got better, with you back it will be a hell of a lot better, but classes were shit.”

He fell to his bed, still staring out the window watching the snowfall. 

“Nearly every moment was miserable. I knew something was wrong but I didn’t know. I mean I was so focused on you leaving and my being alone, I didn’t really notice how much of a drastic change it was. I guess I knew it was a drastic change, but I didn’t realize it. 

“Also, living with a doctor is one of the worst possible situations. I didn’t tell you this cause we were so far apart, but Bones spent the better part of his free time poking and prodding me to make sure I wasn’t sick. He thought I was catching some kind of flu. After all kinds of tests, he got mad at ME. Yelling about how I was lovesick.

“I’m definitely lovesick.”

All the while Jim was speaking, Spock removed his slippers and joined him on the bed. He traced Jim’s eyebrows, and lightly touched the meld points at his temple. It sparked the two’s bond, warming them both slightly. Spock continued playing with Jim’s hair as he leaned on an elbow. 

“I could have left you much happier.”

“I know, but we’re both very inexperienced at this, aren’t we?”

Spock nodded. 

“I want to improve. I guess it’s more or less about practice, right? We’ve been together for a year. I’m happy with you and only you--”

“You’ve had thoughts.”

“A couple of times. A couple of girls were asking. They even wondered if I was sick when I told them no. I had to lie. Told them I was busy studying or something like that. Sometimes,” he traced Spock’s ears, “sometimes I want to tell everyone about you.”

Spock shifted. He hadn’t explained about ear touching yet. But he figured Jim was innocent enough not to understand what it meant. It ignited an urge in Spock, one he was terrified of feeling. It was a raw undeniable pleasure, a purely instinctual yearning. 

No, Jim didn’t need to know its significance. Not until that happens.

“It would be detrimental to both of us.”

“I know. I know it would. But it would be much easier to tell my friends that I have a boyfriend, rather than coming up with lies. You don’t ever deal with that?”

“My … friends assume I’ve been working on projects, leaving me with no free time. Accepting a temporary position aboard a starship only confirmed that assumption for them.”

Jim brushed his finger over the tip of Spock’s ear. He felt the Vulcan shiver and moan. 

“Oh?”

Spock couldn’t help it, he grazed his teeth along Jim’s neck and kissed him on the lips.

“There’s much about me you aren’t aware of.”

“I can tell.”

They hadn’t tried anything sexual since their first night together. They kept their touching strictly platonic. Jim blamed the three beers he drank on an empty stomach, as for Spock he blamed Jim’s influence. Their bond may have been weak at this point, but Spock was still ravaged by feelings he wasn’t prepared for. 

This night, there was no overwhelming sensation inside Jim. He let Spock kiss him and play with his hair. Spock was gentle, caressing. He wasn’t a hungry animal like Jim had previously encountered. 

“Spock?”

“Hmm?” He barely rose his head above Jim’s chest.

“I love you.”


	2. On Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim struggles to pay attention to class material, while Spock discovers a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's okay Jim. We've all been there.

The rain was coming down furiously. Every droplet created the illusion that the ground was liquid. Puddles were everywhere, inescapable. Even the newest of shoes couldn’t keep a cadet’s feet dry. 

The rain was a musical feast for Spock. He focused on different parts of the ground, cement, grass, dirt, solar panels. Each of them creating lyrical tones for his meditation. The indica he ingested created a euphoria. 

A rare emotion he enjoyed.

He let himself enjoy the moment since it was the total presence of mind and body that he was focusing on during this particular session. He could enjoy a successful meditation, especially now since he could depend on Jim’s part of their bond to cater to his whims. 

It was his favorite meditation spot as of late. On a bench underneath a covered walkway. The path led to the chemistry labs. Spock was spending more time in them, researching poppies. On their trip back to San Francisco, Spock uncovered some history about the flower in the United States. Illegal, but legal. Spock was considerably fascinated.

The two were busy that week. First classes of the term, both Spock and Jim were focused on their studies. Spock of course was also obligated to teach, he had lessons to devise. They would pass each other on campus and nod, but rarely speak. When they had the time to be alone, it was dedicated to sleep. 

“Mr. Spock.”

He opened his eyes, they were green, the indica opening up his veins. 

“Oh, sorry to interrupt. I’ve got a slight emergency.”

Through his blurred sight, Spock made out one of his classmates. He was one of the few people Spock entrusted with friendship, or as close as a Vulcan could get. 

Axem Julamaine was a physicist. He spent years working on multiple theories involving neutrinos and dark matter because he thought it was fun. Axem and Spock had a healthy competitive relationship. The two challenged each other, and complemented each other. Their unspoken correspondence: I’ll help you, if you help me.

Perplexed, as he was rarely addressed as Mister by his friends, he rubbed his eyes. “Mr. Julamaine?”

“You have an opening on Wednesdays and Fridays right?”

“Correct.”

“Can you do me a HUGE favor?”

Spock raised a brow. His vision was finally focusing. The young man was holding a blue umbrella with a delta insignia, no doubt borrowed from the science lab. 

“Just hear me out! I was assigned to the Enterprise. I can’t pass it up! But for this term I have to teach classes on those days.”

“And?”

“Well, you’re here.” He scratched his head. “Please, please can you teach those classes? They’re super easy and you barely have to do anything.”

It might have been the indica, or Jim’s influence, but Spock felt a pit in his stomach when Axem said Enterprise. If anyone in Spock’s class were to be called to serve aboard Starfleet’s flagship craft, it surely should have been him.

“Why should I take on your responsibility?”

Axem was a little shocked. He felt the hostility in Spock’s voice. “Uh, I figured you’d find it logical to let me take a chance I may never get again, especially when I’ve told you how I want to further my research?”

The logic was sound. Spock knew better. Axem should be taking any opportunity to further his career, but it was illogical for Starfleet to choose Axem over himself. 

“Message me your lesson plans.”

“Spock, you are the best! I’ll message them to you shortly. I’m sure you’ll even be entertained. It’s science for the command track!”

He watched Axem run back into the building. Spock folded his arms. Meditation ruined.

Teaching quantum mechanics to cadets in the command track twice a week should not have been difficult for Spock. Like Axem said, he barely needed to do anything other than proctor exams and lecture prepared material. It was only the third week of classes, and by that point the students should have acclimated to the material. Taking over a class early in the term should have been easy. Or so Spock thought.

“Lieutenant Julamaine has been reassigned. I’ll be taking over this class.”

Spock’s reputation preceded him. There were groans from some of the students. 

“Great, we get the most boring guy on campus to lecture us on the most boring material in the universe,” a cadet mouthed off.

“Dude, shut up.”

Spock’s attention turned away from the middle of the room towards the back. Jim was sitting at the furthest table from the front. He was staring at him, a wildly curious stare. In order not to call attention to their mental conversation Spock rolled his eyes. 

“You only think quantum mechanics is boring because your brain lacks the capacity to understand it. Unfortunately for you it’s a required course to get anywhere higher in command. Fortunately for me, I will find it particularly pleasurable to see how fast and hard you fail.”

The cadet in question sputtered, trying to come up with a response. He’d never had a teacher tell him he had zero faith in his capabilities. 

Spock glanced at Jim.

And to think this term, Jim was going to have an easier time than last. He had Spock to help with his work, he had him to help build his confidence. Sitting in that room, with Spock lecturing about topics he’d use sparingly, worried him. 

_ Quantum mechanics is my weak point! Why the hell is he teaching this, let alone teaching MY class! I was counting on the bastard to help me study. Now what? Fail? _

“As for the rest of you,” Spock continued, eerily answering Jim’s rhetorical questions, “If you take the proper notes and ask for help when needed you will not have any issues completing the course. As for fun, even the most respected and well-versed professors rarely make nomenclature fun.”

Jim tried focusing on his notes, but he was distracted. Spock’s back was facing him, but he was imagining the ridges of his spine and his fingers tracing up and down it. None of these cadets saw what Jim saw. They saw an organic computer writing mathematical language. Jim saw a beautiful creature creating art. 

He thought Spock’s writing would be as technical as his speech, but it flowed. It was fluid and flourished, yet neat and readable. Spock would excel at typography if given the chance. His written equations were gorgeous. Jim was lost in the flow. 

Is there any inherent logic in art? Jim knew about musical compositions using mathematics, but what about other mediums? 

Together for a year, yet Jim hadn’t considered Spock would enjoy art or music. He was quite horrified: He was letting assumptions from his limited world view define who he thought Spock was.

Jim slumped in his chair trying to focus once more. 

“You are avoiding me.”

There was a thunk as a book hit the table. Spock sat on the bench, his thigh brushing Jim’s. 

“I’m not. Just busy.”

“You failed to attend class this week.” He opened his book, carefully removing a pressed flower he’d been using as a bookmark. “You also didn’t show up on Saturday.”

Jim glanced at the text: metaphysics. Not even remotely a topic he wanted to think about. He tried to focus on his rice bowl. Black beans, pork, egg, jalapenos. _ Focus on breakfast. _

“I wasn’t feeling great last week. Plus, I turned in my work.”

“Jim.”

_ Focus on breakfast. _

“I’m speaking to you as your significant other.”

_ Breakfast. _

Spock placed his hand on the table, his palm up. As far as anyone in the vicinity knew, Spock was only sitting next to Jim to read and converse while Jim was eating. It was a simple gesture, but a powerful one nonetheless. Spock chose to sit with their thighs touching, he was choosing another public display of affection.

Jim set his hand atop Spock’s. “I’m sorry.”

Their auras mingled. Jim was humbled by this display. 

“I might be a logical creature Jim, but I also don’t appreciate being lied to. It’s an unsatisfactory trait.”

Jim wanted to be offended, but Spock’s aura caught him off guard. He felt the Vulcan’s genuine concern for him. There was a hint of jealousy as well, the root of which he couldn’t place.

“What is wrong, Jim? Please. I’d like to support you if I can.”

He finally looked up from his meal, but he still didn’t look at Spock. He looked ahead, this time focusing on a blank wall, where he imagined what people would see if he turned around and kissed Spock right in the middle of the mess hall. 

“I realized I really don’t know anything about you and it’s because I’m being pretty fucking racist.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My mother was right. Interspecies relationships are difficult. Like, not even romantic ones but friendships are as well. We come from different worlds, we don’t have many common experiences.”

Jim let go of Spock’s hand. He wrung his hands together. 

“I’ve heard you say it. Humans are barbaric, emotional creatures with little understanding of logic. But do you ever consider that there’s humans out there that tackle logic puzzles, that thrive in mathematics and reason? And then there’s the other way around. We see Vulcans as these emotionless, careless aliens with a superiority complex. Yet, there’s music, there’s art. Writing, painting, singing, dancing. Vulcans do those things too, right? I never once asked you about those things. I’m letting my assumptions get in the way.

“I sat in class trying to listen to you. Spock, you are an alien, as I am to you. But why the hell is that getting in the way of the fact that you are a very complex person with vast interests? Everything gets hyper focused into emotions and non-emotions. I never cared to really ask about your hobbies, your favorite color, your favorite foods. It might end up with you telling me all those questions are stupid, but at least I’m asking them. Does-does this make any sense to you?”

Spock nodded. 

“Curious. Was this due to my first lesson with you?”

His laughter rang through the hall. There were a couple of cadets who turned to look at the source. Jim bit his lip. 

“How did you know?”

“I found it increasingly frustrating to teach. I felt your intense gaze. It is one thing to understand students have had sexual fantasies about their instructors, it is another to fully realize those fantasies can come true in an hour's time.”

His very slight smile was getting increasingly easier to spot. Jim smiled in return. 

“Your mood drastically changed. From sexual to anger to disgust. All while I was trying to teach a class.”

“I’ll keep it under control.”

“So you intend to come, then?”

“If you do me a favor.”

“I will do most anything for you.”

Jim maneuvered his body so he was facing Spock. He finally drank in his silky smooth skin after a week’s absence. Jim was always astounded with Spock’s appearance. Healthy skin, healthy hair. He missed him. 

“Why is your writing so beautiful?”

The verbal question was in tandem with Jim’s implicit feeling. Spock observed he was getting better at the telepathic part of their bond, at least it was getting easier for Spock to decipher Jim’s sentences. He pulled out a journal from his messenger bag, along with a fountain pen, inscribed with intricate designs. 

“The written Vulcan language has multiple components. We have scripture. Written for sacred texts, text of importance. There’s a more simple denotion, for common communication. Vulcan in all its forms are calligfric in nature.”

Jim fell into stupor over the lines and swirls. It took incredible care to define weight and motion. Yet there was absolutely no meaning of these symbols to Jim.

“What did you just write?”

Spock held the journal up to his chest, presenting his penmanship. “This is my full name.”

  
  


Jim threw his bag down to the floor and flopped onto the couch. It had been a while since he came home feeling anything other than slight dread or exhaustion. He grabbed his tablet and caught up on some campus gossip. Anonymous posting sites never lost their appeal through the centuries. They ranged from wildly inappropriate to makeshift newsfeeds. Jim was always fond of the missed connections or “in the neighborhood” feeds. 

According to a generic “campus life” feed, there was a mystery box floating around the dorms, serving cadets their most wished for items of pleasure. The number one item? Andorian Whiskey and snickerdoodle cookies. 

There was another item that Jim thought was curious. It was a snapshot of him and Spock at the mess hall earlier that day with a caption that read, “Kirk has been off limits lately, now we know! :P”

Of course it was an anonymous posting, many of these comments, pictures, discussions, and memes were all posted in confidence that they wouldn’t be outed. But Jim was curious who could have been taking the time to watch them in the mess hall. 

His curiosity got to the better of him, there were comments. 

“Looks like Jim has a new project on his hands or rather in his pants.”

“I was wondering why I hadn’t seen him bar hopping in a long time.”

“Honestly thought he finally quit Starfleet lol”

Jim frowned. It was an intimate moment they shared where Spock even initiated the hand hold. Jim really didn’t care about how people viewed him, it was Spock. He was the one who had a reputation to uphold.

He couldn’t help it, he responded to the post in question: “You’re all just jealous that I was actually able to get to know a Vulcan.”

It wasn’t the best response he had to a problem, but in the short term it eased his worries.

At midnight, after a full evening of preparing for mock court marshals and diplomacy meetings, Jim headed up to his room. He pulled out his dress uniform, glancing over it to make sure there were no wrinkles or tears in the fabric. He remembered that miserable night where he first wore it, where he saw Spock and tried to deny all the feelings he had for him. 

He set his alarm, and for the first night in a long while he opened up a book. 

Unlike the first week of classes where Spock took over teaching, Jim moved from the back to the front of the room. He decided to take Spock’s advice to engage himself in the material, rather than relying on short term memory thereafter. The photo posted still weighed on him though, he hoped no one would notice the change in seats.

Jim was still engrossed in the book he started last night, the pages were a blur. Only the pictures he created in his mind mattered, the text blending into the moving pictures of his mind. 

“Hey, you busy?”

He looked up from his book. It was Hank Anderson. An alright cadet who enjoyed holding power a little too much. Jim thought he needed to tone it down, but Hank was the guy greeting envoys and not him. Maybe Jim needed to take charge more. 

“I’m reading.”

“Well I just wanna ask you somethin’.”

Jim sighed. He closed his book, unsatisfied having to end in the middle of a vivid scene.

“What do you wanna ask?”

“You’re poly right? Did you just stop being poly? I saw a pic last night and then I was wondering about it--”

“What?”

Hank wasn’t trying to sound rude. Jim could tell the kid had been pondering over an idea for hours but didn’t know how to approach it. 

“Look, Hank I’m still poly. I’m still pan. Nothing changes that. I’m just trying to respect someone I like being around who isn’t poly.”

He pursed his lips while contemplating his next sentence. Jim waited patiently. This wasn’t a new thing to hear from his classmates. The “oh go ask Jim, he gets around”s and the “Jim’s a slut he should know”s never phased him, but there was nervousness this time. He felt it rippling through his core. It wasn’t Jim, though. It was Spock. 

Spock was in the room opening up his bag to prepare for class. His attention to Jim was so subtle even he had to look again to make sure. 

_ Tread carefully. Don’t be a fucking idiot. He’s in the room. _

“So you are dating him, right? Like only him? That’s okay? Everyone you know is okay with it?”

Hank finally sat down in the empty seat next to Jim. He scratched his head. “Dude, I’m sorry for these questions. I’m just trying to figure somethin’ out about myself and everyone told me to talk to you. And no offense but you come off like a total scrub, dude. But then I saw that post last night -- I dunno man. I’m confused.”

“If you’re not hurting people, then who the fuck cares?”

Jim gave Hank a reassuring grin after a quick glance at Spock. He was pretending to read. 

“Hank, I talked to everyone and told them I wanted space. You saw that comment. “I’m off limits? Yeah I told everyone that. I’m off limits! And if anyone has a problem with that then they need to rethink their priorities.”

He had no idea if Hank was aware that Spock was in the room, or if he knew that the room was just quiet enough for a Vulcan to pick out their conversation in the midst of the 10 others that were going on. Jim was particularly unaware if Hank realized that Spock was surely listening in on them. Obviously it was Spock’s influence on Jim, he could feel the Vulcan shadowing over him. So it was out of Jim’s mind to think that Hank had the social awareness to not ask what he was about to ask. 

“So like, is fucking a Vulcan the same as fucking a human?”

Jim widened his eyes. 

Spock thankfully stopped the conversation with a call of attention as class was starting. 

The material was dry. Yet it was the most noteworthy class of the day. Jim spent the entire time trying to fiddle with organizing his notes rather than actually taking them. He tried stopping because he knew Spock could feel every bit of him fretting. But then he’d start taking notes and focusing on Spock himself. The flow of his voice, his timbre, his once-again beautiful writing on the board. If Spock could have worn those motorcycle pants this day and that grey t-shirt with the coffee stains. Or maybe if Spock threw off his shirt revealing his ever growing floral tattoo that was starting to trickle down his thigh. 

_ When did he add those poppies? _

Jim was also mortified of the possibility that Hank would stay after class to get an answer to his question. He gave Hank the benefit of a doubt, a random curiosity. Yet Jim started to fret again and the entire circle of thoughts started over.

His worries were nullified when Hank thanked him. 

“Dunno about you but I had no idea what he was going on about. I thought about what you said. And I think I'm just gonna have to talk to some people. See you later, Jim.”

_ Oh thank fucking fuck. _

Jim shoved his books and tablet into his bag and tried to hurry out the door, yet there was a beckoning, albeit a silent one coming from the podium. He stopped and slowly walked backwards.

“Y-yeah?”

“As your instructor--”

Oh no.

“--I’m recommending you work on your syntax.”

Jim laughed. “My what now?” He turned around, giving Spock a cheeky grin. They were the only ones in the room now. 

“Did you do this work while you were drunk?” He pulled up Jim’s homework on his tablet and projected it onto the wall. “This is an abomination to look at.”

He stared at his own homework, the writing was indeed atrocious but it was out of his control.

“What’s an abomination? You can see the answer. And look, you even said it was correct.”

Spock rolled his eyes. Oh yes, it was a new favorite response of his. Jim noticed how often he did it. The man was even starting to sigh in annoyance at people. 

“Jim, I’m not singling out correct answers when I send my students off with homework. THIS,” he pointed at Jim’s work “is a poor representation of someone who wants to hold command over people. Work on your syntax and your organization so it doesn’t look like a pile of shit.”

The phrase caught them both off guard. Jim could feel Spock’s tension.

“Um, Spock? Are you okay? Asking as your significant other.”

He reached out, intending to comfort Spock, but the Vulcan didn’t budge. 

“If this was about what happened before class, I swear I didn’t want anything to do with that conversation. I hope that I didn’t out you I just implied--!” Jim ran a hand through his hair. “Say anything to me, Spock. You’re kinda freaking me out just standing there. All I can feel is searing tension.”

“I apologize. I sometimes cannot control your influence over me.” Spock softened. “Especially after an hour of your constant objectification.”

Jim smiled. “I tried really hard this time! It’s your fault!”

“My fault?”

He pressed his lips against Spock’s. Tender, chaste, a little teasing nibble. “Yes.”

“So what’s this about a photo?”

Spock held Jim close, the two reveled in each other’s presence. Jim was slightly worried how he could feel that Spock needed to have Jim in his embrace.

“Someone posted a picture of us in the mess hall. You and I holding hands.”

A sigh.

“How do you want to proceed, Spock? It’s up to you.”

“I suppose, if it’s out.” He stepped back. “I suppose to keep going as we were.”

Jim nodded. “People are gonna ask, though.”

“If they’re polite -- I may entertain their curiosity.” 

Spock returned Jim’s kiss, brushing his fingers over Jim’s temple. It gave them both a full rush of each other’s presence. Illuminating their desire. 

“Please Jim, work on your syntax.”

Spock’s words kept echoing in Jim’s mind, which made everything else rather difficult to work on. 

_ He’s nitpicking. Why is he nitpicking? IT’S FINE. _

Of course, Jim knew it wasn’t entirely fine. He did rush that homework and it did look like a heaping pile of shit. 

_ Where the hell did he pick up that phrase? Bones? _

He ran over his work from not just Spock’s class, but for his other classes as well. It was the realization that he wasn’t trying as hard as he could that bothered him. No amount of calming music could stifle the tension in his body. The coffee he had sitting on the table only made it worse. Then again the tension wasn’t his. 

_ Is Spock okay? _

“Since when do you come to the library to do homework?”

It was Bones. 

“Since Spock became one of my instructors and you’re normally conducting some kind of experiment at home.”

Jim made space for Bones to set his items. He took the offer, setting down a stack of books and his own cup of coffee. The books were leather bound and well loved, Jim noticed the titles of them. He hadn’t even thought about his upcoming assignments. 

“That final mock court marshal, right?”

Bones nodded. “Same boat as you buddy. Luckily I’m not starting from scratch.”

“Yeah how does that work anyway?”

“Easy. You go to med school first THEN let Starfleet indoctrinate you.”

“So I’m doing it the hard way.”

Jim grabbed one of the books, it wouldn’t hurt trying to study for that mock court marshal again, especially with someone else. The ones he’d been focused on were with his classmates. The final court marshal was set in front of the entire command staff. Each group was chosen at random as well as the part they’d be playing. Jim could be a counselor as easily as he could be the accused. He sighed upon reading the title. “An entire book just dedicated to procedures. How enthralling.”

“Gotta be learned at some point, kid.”

There were days when Bones actually showed his wisdom. It wasn’t lauded over Jim in a patronizing way. In fact, Jim thought of Bones as more than just a friend. One moment, Bones would be drinking buddies, and then the next he’d lecture Jim about how important it is to keep his goals in mind. He was the closest father figure he had.

Bones himself saw potential in Jim. The nights Jim would come home drunk or high he’d feel hopeless, but then there were nights where he came home and Jim was lying on the couch reading Kierkegaard for pleasure. He felt he needed to keep Jim on the right side, to keep pushing and keep him dreaming for something bigger. 

It also might have been because he was still bitter about his ex-wife, stealing away his dreams too. 

“Yeah. I need to work harder on this. I worked on my debate skills and everything else. I neglected the actual procedurals. You don’t mind studying these together?”

“Hell no I don’t mind. I welcome it!”

Their study session was about 4 hours. Bones at first thought Jim was going to find excuses or get distracted. He never really saw Jim’s full critical thinking skills on display. An hour into the session, Bones offered to get them more coffee from the cafe. He stood in line and fully contemplated. 

“Why the hell is Jim hiding the fact that he’s so god damn smart?”

“Fear.”

He jumped. 

It was Spock. He silently stood behind Bones for his own caffeine fix. 

“Why do you always do that?”

“What do I always do?” His face expressionless as ever.

“Appear. Just out of nowhere you appear like some witch out of thin air.” 

Bones took a second look at Spock. His hair was slightly disheveled. His eyes were drooping. Normally for anyone an unbuttoned collar wouldn’t be a cause for worry, but for Spock it was a shocking symptom of who knows what.

“Uh, you okay?”

Spock nodded. “I had an addition to a tattoo this afternoon. Was not expecting the pain I experienced.”

“That floral one, right?”

Spock nodded once more. “I wanted to incorporate more blackwork into the piece.”

Bones sighed. He thought there were other issues plaguing Spock. The kid barely ate or slept unless he needed to. He worked constantly. Plus spending his time with Jim who was the least bit passive with his energy might have finally taken its toll. He was relieved it was just the effects of a long tattoo session. 

“Well, I guess you’re finally in the right place.”

“I hope a dose of sugar will do the trick.” He shifted, a twinge of pain that even Bones picked up on flashed across his face. “This shirt is insufferable.”

A young woman approached the two of them. Hair wet from the relentless rain outside. Her uniform splattered with rain droplets. 

“What’s this I hear about you dating Class 3’s class clown?”

Spock raised a brow. “Class clown?”

“Oh don’t pretend to be an idiot Spock, it doesn’t look good on you.”

“Nyota, why do you care?”

Both Bones and Nyota were taken aback by his response. 

“You can get in trouble for it?” She frowned and added, “Mr. Lieutenant.”

“I do not need you to remind me of rules.”

“Okay, but then as your friend Spock you really shouldn’t be in his company.”

“And why is that?”

“He’s just bad news, okay!?”

She stormed off. 

“Um, who was that?” Bones watched Nyota continue her rampage out the front doors of the library back into the rain. 

“Nyota Uhura. She is in communications. Brilliant mathematician. I am -- quite fond of her personality. I value her opinions and she values mine. A friend I suppose.”

“A jealous friend.”

Spock tilted his head, thinking about the encounter. As tired as he was he picked up on an emotion he saw from Jim many times. 

“I think there is more to be told from her before I can make that assumption. I do not think it is jealousy.”

“What is it then?”

“I think Nyota has found an adversary.”

Spock stumbled into his apartment around 1 am. He refused to go straight home after his office hours. He also refused to spend any time with Jim that night, making up an excuse that he was busy with his own studies. His tattoo session that day ran long, and he felt that Jim’s influence depleted his ability to mentally block out the pain like he’d been able to for previous sessions. The artist warned him that shading and blacking out was particularly painful, but Spock did not head those warnings. He wished he had. And he couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Jim the truth.

Once his office hours concluded he tore off his shirt and threw on his leather jacket. It alleviated some of the irritation. But his mind was fighting on another front. He had a few outbursts in front of Jim lately. He’d been using colloquialisms that he’d never used, and many of them were irritable at best. Perhaps Jim had been influencing too much of his unexplored humanity, or he feared, it was something else entirely. 

Meditation was not going to fix what he was dreading. So he smoked a bowl before leaving his office for a Romulan speakeasy. 

He found that the speakeasy suited his needs: quiet, relaxed, and it served items that unlike human alcohol, could actually inhibit his faculties. The only other patrons he saw in the bar over the years he visited were Andorians and the rare Romulan who had a green pass to visit Federation space. Spock never told a soul about the place, as everything and everyone could be subjected to Federation discipline. 

This night, as the rain refused to quit, Spock sat silently at the end of the bar in the corner. He leaned onto the wall and closed his eyes, letting the brandy swirl unfettered thoughts and suggestions into his brain. Flashes of Jim clenching his fists into balls, crumpling the navy blue quilt on Spock’s bed, groans of pleasure, mixed with a heated desire to destroy. Mutilated technology, splintered wood, green blood flowing on the hardwood floors of his apartment…

“Another drink, sir?”

Spock opened his eyes, inhaling and exhaling away the vivid imagery. He nodded. 

The alien alcohol no doubt drove his imagination wild, but what if it was only a fraction of the cause? Jim could have been an influence, but Jim’s presence was constructive, not destructive. His influence never warranted pure rage or anger. 

Another swig of blue liquid. He pushed out of his mind the other possibilities. 

The world spun. The rain liquefied all solid matter. When Spock finally got to his apartment that morning, he stripped off all his clothes. It released all the pressure and tension he built up within. He grabbed a glass from his cupboard and crushed it in his fist. He let the glass cut into his skin, he clenched his fist even harder, driving every fragment he could deeper and deeper. He grabbed another glass and threw it at the wall. All he could think about were the looks people gave him. The murmurs about him dating Jim. Nyota’s accusation at the library infuriated him. Her characterization of Jim was baseless. She was supposed to be a friend. Why couldn’t she support his decisions regardless of regulations? With each thought he clenched his fist harder. He grabbed another glass and threw it. The one thought that infuriated him the most was Jim’s conversation before class. That stupid grin he had on his stupid face. Why didn’t Jim take anything seriously? Another glass thrown against the wall.

He didn’t entirely know why, but there was a satisfaction to it. He thoroughly enjoyed focusing on thoughts that made him angry. The destruction was pleasurable. It took immense power not to destroy his entire apartment. He could settle for obtaining new glassware. 

The feeling came on suddenly, and it left suddenly. Spock clenched his jaw, as the overwhelming anger tore through his body and left, leaving only a heap of flesh. The alcohol did not let up. The world still swirled, the rain still liquefied. He forgot about the shards of glass in his hand, and he forgot the inflammation from his tattoo. The rush of anger was so deep and powerful, when it left, Spock felt entirely human for the first time in his life. 

The sunlight was not welcoming. After days of rain, the sun should have been praised with a warm cup of tea and an open window. Pain struck across Spock’s eyes that morning. He’d fallen asleep, or passed out (he didn’t know which) on the floor where the broken glasses lay. The shards pressed into his skin, large and small down his torso, thankfully nowhere near his tattoo.

“Huh,” he stared at his hand, bloodied and covered in glass. He did not remember aside from the anger. 

He was finally able to stand, yet the world still swayed. It wasn’t unlike how the world spun when he smoked, but this was more violent than he’d ever experienced. It swooped down and cut up abruptly whenever he turned his head. He had to brace himself against the walls multiple times to get to the bathroom. There was no preparation for who he saw in the mirror. 

Spock could only stand to look at himself for a few seconds. He was unrecognizable. Eyes bloodshot, pale, glass littered his hair. The few seconds he was able to focus was too much. 

He didn’t think Vulcans were able to vomit. 

A nurse led him to an examination room. She thought nothing of yet another cadet coming in on a Saturday morning. Unlike her colleagues, she didn’t mind the weekend shifts, it kept her from being in the same situation. No doubt if she had free time, she’d be partying as well. 

Her touch was delicate, she was patient. She didn’t question Spock or throw any assumptions his way. It wasn’t her job. She focused on her basic duties, making sure the patient wasn’t in immediate danger. The only comment she made was how she liked the colors of his robe. 

It wasn’t her intention, but Spock felt embarrassed by it. His mental control was still inhibited, thankfully not entirely as it was a few hours ago. He was aware enough to know that feeling any slight emotion made him uneasy. 

The nurse left him alone while she updated his chart and talked to the doctor on duty. Spock’s vision still spun, no matter how still he sat. He lifted his hand, crudely wrapped in gauze for the time being, and tried his best to make the memories come back. Anger, destruction. 

That was it. The desire to destroy for no reason. The glassware, the brief thought of crushing the glass coffee table. He wanted to destroy objects, and partly himself.

There was a rapping at the door and it opened moments later.

“Okay, okay, so I heard you are one doozy of a case this morn-”

Spock drew back his hood to see the doctor more clearly. He thought he recognized the voice. 

“Leonard.”

“Spock.”

The two could only stare at each other trying to process the situation. Spock was expecting an unknown doctor, one who would never be seen in his personal life again. Bones on the other hand expected it to be one of the usuals he heard stories about. Hell, if Jim wasn’t home all night he half expected to see him sprawled out on the bed trying to ward off his hangover.

But there sat Spock, in traditional Vulcan robes. He looked miserable.

“I thought you didn’t work Saturdays.”

“I don’t. Coworker called in sick.”

He looked back at his tablet then at Spock again. 

“Okay, take the robe off. I need to see the full extent of … this.”

Spock complied. He took it slow as any sudden movement would jostle his equilibrium. Bones got closer to Spock, carefully holding up his arm and examining his torso. He ran a tricorder over the Vulcan noting the diagnostics. 

“You know, the written shit the nurses give me never really prepares me for what I’m about to get into. This one time in Mississippi we had a guy come in with a branch going right through his leg --”

“Leonard.”

“Hmm?”

“I am going to vomit.”

Bones handed a bucket to Spock and continued his story as if there wasn’t someone retching in the room with him. 

“The thing is, this guy had this branch in his leg for three days! We asked what in the hell he was thinking waiting so long for care and he tells us that he figured the branch would rot itself out. Sir, that’s not how it works, this is going to take surgery! For fuck sake there was fungus growing!”

Spock looked up, he was incredibly weak at this point. “Leonard, is there any point to this?”

He was a little enamored with Bones’ bedside manner. There wasn’t a hint of snark in his voice like normal. This wasn’t Bones, as Jim called him. This was Dr. McCoy, a rare sight to see by his personal friends.

“Oh, not really. You already know you feel like crap, I already know you feel like crap. Why talk about feeling like crap? Just trying to make you feel better, plum.” Bones looked once again at the results of the tricorder scan. “I’ll be right back, don’t make a mess of the place.”

His bedside manner really was worlds away from what Spock encountered on a weekly basis. 

Bones entered the room again with a tray and an IV. “This guy should make you feel a lot better. I dunno what you did last night, but you did one incredible job dehydrating yourself. I normally hate this old school style, but they work a lot better in situations like these. Thanks to my Vulcan colleagues, it’s a potion suited just to you! It should help with the head spinning.”

He carefully inserted the IV, with no disturbance to Spock. He knew a doctor should have both strength and a delicate touch, but the way Bones handled him, felt as though the doctor didn’t want to break anything. He was gentle, with the softest touch.

Bones turned to the tray he set on the table. There was a set of tweezers and gauze and a hypospray of pain medication of which he pressed to the Vulcan’s neck. 

“Now for the fun part. I gave you pain meds, since you’re clearly not up to your usual confounded Vulcan pain-blocking ways. This can get tediously painful, you’ll feel some discomfort.”

Of all the technology that advanced, Bones was still reliant on his simple tools and his hands. It’s what made him an incredible doctor. He hated the thought of tearing into bodies, crudely repairing them and sewing them together, but he still learned backwoods triage and old school first-aid. He knew when technology could be used and when it was better suited to sit down and pull glass out of a friend’s hand. He could easily dissolve all the glass with the run of an instrument several times, but he also didn’t know how deep certain shards went. Glass was finicky like that.

He’d pull a shard of glass and the wound would start bleeding. Bones would meticulously clean and run a dermal regenerator over it. One by one, he worked diligently, just as an engineer would to keep a warp core running as smoothly as possible. 

“I’m gonna put on my big doctor shoes here. How did this happen? A fight? Or did you just get THAT drunk and run into some glass wall?”

“Do I need to explain?”

“Yes you do. Hell, if you even remember. It might help explain why some of your diagnostics are a little off. And I’m not talking about the drunk ones, those are easy to spot.”

“Wh-which ones?”

Bones stopped his glass removal and showed Spock the tablet. “Here, and here. It’s not by much, but it’s peaking my interest. You did give me permission to study your physiology further to better suit the Starfleet overlords. So, explain. These two values aren’t considered normal.”

“I -- threw some glasses around.”

He nodded. “You threw some glasses around. Cause what? Drunk you laughs at glass breaking?”

Spock decided to continue the verbiage. “Drunk me got very angry and wanted to destroy. Anything.”

He thought sobering up would bring up shame. Of course he felt embarrassed, having to walk into the infirmary on a Saturday morning, but sitting in the examination room with Bones let the emotion falter. He felt nothing other than worry. 

“And the glass on your hand? Intentional?”

Spock nodded. “I assume. Everything is still very dim. I’m fairly certain I passed out on top of it all, resulting in this.”

Bones continued his process. He was finally making his way to Spock’s ribs. “I can tell. Patterns on your hand are consistent with grasping an object. I saw that before too. Guy was mad. Didn’t end up passing out on his own mess though. I’m not a psychologist, but this anger you had. This need to destroy stuff. I can easily tell you to stop drinking whatever the hell it was and pump your stomach if you don’t listen. But this anger? How do we manage that?

Spock sighed. He couldn’t hide from it any longer. 

“Look, Spock. I know enough to understand that Vulcans biologically cannot handle such powerful emotions like that. Even if you are half human, you need to be careful with them.”

At this point Bones was rubbing a special cloth over Spock’s skin to remove the dust-like fragments of glass. 

“You read the documents I gave you about Vulcan sexuality, correct?”

“Of course I did, but I don-- oh.” He entered a few notes on his tablet and frowned. The two abnormal results on his diagnostic brought it all together. “Spock. How far?”

All Spock wanted to do was hide in his robes. He wanted to block out the light. It was a conversation he knew he was going to have to have at some point, he just wasn’t prepared for it. This was something he’d never experienced, and as far as humans were concerned, it was a little late to go through puberty. 

“A couple weeks. I think. I had a few emotional outbursts. They were very minimal. This kind of primal emotion is new. I was under the influence. I do not believe this anger is correlated.”

“But?” Vulcan or not, Bones was skilled at reading his patients. He could tell when one of them was holding back. 

“You know how little there is on Pon Farr. There’s even less for a Vulcan’s first time. I’ve never been through this before. I am of Vulcan, but I’m also of Earth. How does that affect me? And then there’s nothing when it comes to a bonded Vulcan who just so happens to have it for the first time. Let alone a bonded Vulcan with human DNA.”

Bones peeled off his gloves. He needed a moment to divulge in everything Spock just said. One. There’s limited information on Pon Farr to outsiders. The most one can access is if they have undeniable proof that they are a doctor and treating a Vulcan. He filled that requirement. Two. It’s Spock’s first time. He’s going to know less. Three. He’s half human. Can his humanity locked deep down compensate for such an irrational heated desire that can kill a full-blooded Vulcan? Perhaps yes. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Four. He was bonded. Bones remembered reading that term in a paper long ago. It didn’t take long for him to remember what paper he read the term from: A Comparison of Mating Habits.

“You’re bonded? That’s like married pretty much right? Essentially what a couple of 50 plus years in human terms is.”

Bones thought of Jim, how as of late the two were always on the same level of thinking when they were together. 

“You’re bonded!?”

He was pretty much staring at a kid. A young terrified kid who made plenty of mistakes only to fully realize the magnanimity of them, right here and right now in the exam room. Bones felt for him, he saw plenty of this back home as well. He’s lived it.

“Gee Spock, I’m sorry. We’ll log everything. We’ll figure it out. I mean if it’s your first time that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re gonna go through the whole thing. You might just get moody.”

Spock threw his hood over his head, curling up into a ball. “I’m not ready for this.”


	3. Riding High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard Bones McCoy has two idiot friends.

“I am so ready for this.”

Jim paraded into the storage room where he was led by an ensign holding an inventory sheet. 

“Yup, arrived this morning. No harm done to it. What a freakin beauty of a bike.” The ensign threw off the covering, revealing Jim’s motorcycle. 

“I’ve been meaning to get this thing sent over for so long. There’s some hills that are crying to be traversed on this.”

“You into old-world stuff?”

“A bit. Mostly bikes and cars. Never got a chance to fly around in some old planes. Maybe one day.” He inspected the bike once more. “Nah, this is my baby. Was my dad’s and then my mom handed it down to me. If I wasn’t at home being depressed I’d try to race the sunset.”

Winona had contacted him saying she had a surprise. He figured it was some small knick knack or even a visit. When he found out she was sending him his motorcycle, he felt the rut he was stuck in finally lift. The only thing that would have made the gift better was a visit from her. 

He picked up his bike prepared. Boots, pants, jacket. He wanted to waste no time between signing the invoice and riding it. His afternoon was free, the sun made it through the fog. 

It was those long rides through the fields in Iowa that Jim missed the most. He missed feeling a connection to the road and he missed the absolute danger he was in. A small mistake could prove deadly, but being constantly near death at 90 miles per hour empowered him. 

There was new land to explore. Not the hazy dirt roads of farmland, but the solar panel covered streets along the high cliffs of the Pacific Ocean. The Pacific Coast Highway called to him the moment he read about preserved roadways in California. The scenery, the salty air, the crashing waves. It beckoned him. 

He drove as far as Mavericks beach, the view of the waves crashing against the rocks and the many tidepools that littered the shore whisked away his imagination. He could come here on weekends and learn to surf. He could get an appreciation for marine life. A weekend escape. That’s all Jim needed. A place where there was no influence of work or school. 

Jim took a photo and sent it to Spock. 

“Found our get away.”

It didn’t take long for a response. 

“Suitable. I would enjoy time spent there with you.”

Jim wasn’t bothered by it, but Spock had been more affectionate as of late. Normally Jim would be the one to initiate a kiss or a cuddle on the sofa, but the past month Spock was the one to do so. Most of the time he let his guard down in private, but there were moments out in public where he grabbed Jim’s hand as they walked campus. The two never talked about it, it just happened. 

He smiled at the message, imagining a tent right out on the beach underneath the stars. Spock would point out where Vulcan was and Jim would tell the old stories of the constellations. 

Jim returned home as the sun was setting. He made space in the garage for his bike, rearranging most of the items and sorting them. A lot of the junk lying about was just old books, but Bones refused to get rid of them. Jim didn’t take the time to see their titles when they made their way out of the house into the garage, but now he saw a couple that interested him. 

The side door to the house was locked so he had to enter at the front. Through the window he saw Bones holding a tricorder up to Spock’s forehead. 

“Probably another one of their dumb experiments I’m sure,” Jim sighed to himself. Once he finally got his keys and opened it he shook his head. 

“I want no part of it,” Jim greeted the two.

“We didn’t want to include you anyway!” Bones frowned. 

Jim could have sworn the two sighed in relief as he rounded the corner up the stairs.

“At least he didn’t catch us with your shirt off.” He chuckled. Bones took another look at Spock’s arm and hand where remnants of his tirade still lingered. “What I don’t get is why some of these scars won’t go away. I made sure that the regenerator was working. You shouldn’t have gotten any scars in the first place.”

Spock shrugged. “Maybe it’s just the last thing my body wants to deal with.”

“True. Like any illness sometimes the body just doesn’t work as efficiently. But you’re okay though?”

He nodded. “I feel ninety nine point five percent normal. The other five percent is …” Spock trailed off. It was still difficult for him to be upfront.

“You know you don’t need to be bashful around me. I’ve already seen you hungover. If you had longer hair I would have held it for you. We’re practically best friends now.”

Bones sat down on the coffee table across from Spock. He wanted to get on his same level to show trust.

Spock stared at his hands. “There are times when I crave physical touch. Romantic touch. It is … bizarre.”

“You’ve been logging that every time it happens?”

“Diligently.”

“Well if there’s nothing else that’s worrying you, just keep sending them to me weekly. Certain hormones are still high, nothing too high though. Just a slight increase.”

“Slight.” Spock leaned into the couch. “A better answer would be-” He sat up again and screwed up his face to mock Bones’ near-always look of angry disbelief, “-Sorry to bother with you for alla this, but there’s absolutely nothin’ wrong with ya! Ima go back to my bottle o’ whiskey now, have fun y’all.”

Spock reverted to his stoney glare and leaned back once more with folded arms.

For a solid 30 seconds Bones gaped at Spock. Utter disbelief as to what he just saw. He didn’t think a Vulcan had the muscles in their face to produce such an animated expression. Spock could only stare in return. He was getting annoyed. He was getting annoyed with his own body, his own thoughts. He just wanted it to be over with. 

Bones started laughing. 

“Holy shit. That’s good! That’s real good! Who knew, a Vulcan who can do impressions! I’m...impressed!”

“Thanks. You can come back for another in seven years,” Spock grumbled.

Bones wiped the tears from his eyes. “Seriously though that is a loggable event. Annoyance at the situation, outward expression of emotion in a very outlandish way, jokes…” He continued to update his own tablet. 

Spock started to get up. “I’m going home now. Unless you wanted me for more of, whatever this turned into.”

“No, I have everything I need. Go home. Get rest. I mean it. Actually sleep.”

“I don’t need--”

“I said get some sleep.”

Spock’s shoulders dropped. He nodded. “Sleep.”

“Aww, but I just got here.” Jim smiled. He gave Spock a kiss on the cheek. “I showered for nothing.”

“I would stay,” Spock lied, “but I have a dissertation to work on. Bones helped me compile some information I needed.”

He grasped Jim’s hand as he passed by. Before opening the front door he gave Jim a full genuine smile. “I will see you in the morning.”

The door shut quietly, leaving the two staring at each other. 

“Did he just call you Bones.”

“Did he just smile.”

Spock should have gone straight home, but he detoured through the mess hall. Wednesday nights were trivia nights, a social gathering Spock hardly wanted to partake in, but he figured he’d finally answer a friend’s request. 

He grabbed a bowl of lemon sorbet and sat down next to Uhura. 

“I’m not late for the beginning am I?”

She lit up as she realized it was Spock. “Aaaaah! You finally made it! You’re a year late, but AaaaaAah!”

Nyota stood up to address her table, “guys, this is it. This is the time we win. Spock is going to carry this team to victory!”

One of the cadets at the table laughed. “Okay Spock, spill. What did Ny blackmail you with?”

“Yeah dude, there’s something she did. I don’t see why you’d be here.” Another cadet chimed in.

Spock took a bite of his sorbet. He looked off to the other tables and around the ceiling pretending he was deep in thought. He was really just enjoying the lemon. 

“I’m not playing. I’m here for the sorbet.”

Nyota glared. “Oh no. YOU HAVE to play.”

“Only with the questions you struggle with. As I said. I am here for the sorbet.”

It was yet another thing he had to log. The urge to eat a sugary treat. Willing to socialize and enjoying the company of others. Of course, Nyota would be the only one to notice his speech becoming less articulate.

Their team name, to the dismay of Nyota (especially since Spock provided the winning vote), was Himbo Haven. A nod to the theme of the night, which was “Old School Slang.” They didn’t win an award for best team name, but the two cadets, Gary and Arnold, were laughing at Nyota’s embarrassment every time it was called. It was winning enough for them. 

Spock stuck to their agreement, he wouldn’t help unless he knew they were struggling with the answer. Of course, he was no good at most pop culture references, there were a few instances where Spock deduced the right answer, but for the most part he was silent with the exception of a hint or two.

It came down to the final question, Himbo Haven was in second. The first place team, Hashtag Ad, was in a critical spot. If they didn’t get the answer right, they’d lose. 

The trivia host called for attention. 

“Okay guys, this is it! Will Nyota finally win trivia? Will she stop coming here and pestering all of us with her calls of cheating? Let’s find out with this last question! It’s an obscure one. I’m sure there’s a classic movie buff playing tonight. Alright, here we go! What Sean Astin movie was released a year prior to the classic Lord of the Rings trilogy? I’ll give you a hint: Sean Astin played Samwise Gamgee.”

Everyone in the room looked stumped. This is what the trivia host did on occasion. He’d come up with impossibly obscure trivia, and randomly place the questions in random sets he’d choose for the week. He wouldn’t have any idea if these questions appeared until he read them on that day. Some trivia players called on him to stop the practice, others provided counter arguments. It was all trivial trivia politics that Spock decidedly knew he never wanted to be a part of. 

Nyota shook her head, Gary shrugged. Arnold leaned over the table. “I read those books once. I fell asleep during the movies. What about you, Spock?”

All eyes turned to him. His arms folded, he was concentrating. 

“Give me the tablet. I actually know this one.”

He left the mess hall pleased with himself. He answered something that no one else could and it did not involve science. 

_Log that as well. Pleasure from a meaningless game of trivia_. _Is this what pride feels like?_

Nyota caught up with him. Her apartment was not far off from his, so she took the liberty to share the walk. 

“How did you know the answer?”

“I once looked up all the movies that used Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. I was curious about classical music in cinema. How all music developed in your society, really. How even though it’s old, it’s still useful and important. 

“I don’t recommend watching. To take such an important piece of music, to take an incredibly forceful finale and reduce it to shit is appalling.”

“Of course. Of course you would find a way to smarten up pop culture.” She smiled. “Thank you, by the way. I really appreciate you joining us.”

He stopped in front of his building. The stars glimmered above them, a shuttle taking off for Starbase 1. “I am learning that it is worthwhile to engage in social activities from time to time.”

“Is that what that Kirk kid is teaching you?” She frowned, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Sorry for yelling at you about that. I don’t think he’s Starfleet material, and I don’t want that reflecting on your record. Nor do I really want you getting into trouble for fraternizing with a cadet.”

“Apology accepted. Yet I think the both of you should get to know each other before you pass judgement.” Spock scanned his badge to open the door. “I will see you tomorrow.”

Nyota watched until she couldn’t see him scale the stairs. “Something isn’t right with him.” 

Spock made a cup of tea before sitting down to log everything that day. He put finishing touches to a few letters of recommendation, and reread the last few pages of his report. The work wasn’t hard, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate. So he put everything away and tried to meditate. 

The session started well. He filled his diaphragm and exhaled all the stress away. He emptied out his mind, all he could see was the pitch black of his eye lids. But his eyes started to flicker after a few minutes. He started to think. 

_Not all terrible. Sometimes thoughts need to linger._

A red hot heat seared deep within. His stomach knotted. Jim was before him, his clothes off. He was smiling, his eyes heavy with pleasure. Yet Jim was covered in bruises, and Spock was pressing him against a wall with his teeth at his throat. Jim whimpered asking for more, grasping at any part of Spock he could manage. 

“Please, please, please.”

Spock opened his eyes. The room was empty. No Jim. He was still sitting on the floor with the tea sitting on the table before him. He groaned. Another meditation session ruined.

_Stop thinking about it. Stop. Stop. STOP._

He tried to lie down, but the thoughts kept coming back. Jim was always bruised but wanting more of it. Jim would beg and Spock would comply. 

_Keep your control._

Spock never attempted intercourse. The thought never occurred to him, but this night his fantasies intensified. He could not stop himself from entertaining the thought. Spock penetrating and Jim crying out in full orgasm.

_I can't. I can’t do this._

It was a conflicting moment. Spock was deep down enjoying every moment of the fantasy, yet at the surface he struggled. He wanted no part in sex, but he wanted to be as physically close as possible. Spock couldn’t come to terms that at the very core of his being he loved Jim more than anything and wanted to express it mentally and physically. But he was frightened. These primal instincts, these basic emotions that were so complex threw him off. He was Vulcan, he should not want to have sex for the sake of having sex. He should not want to feel that kind of pleasure. 

_But I need it. I need his touch. I crave it._

He gave in. 

_Maybe this one time._

There was no skill or second hand nature. He had to explore what made himself feel good. A stroke in one area was not as pleasant as a stroke in another. He took it slow, but also tried to speed up. Should there be any skill at all in masturbation or was it purely exploratory? 

Spock really didn’t know how to handle his orgasm. The last time he achieved one, over a year ago, he was with Jim and he concentrated more on him than himself.

The rush of heat flowed through his body. It nearly blinded him. All the pressure that was building exploded with a yell. It rippled down to his fingers and flooded his brain with endorphins. It was unimaginably good. 

He lied on his bed, his heavy breaths slowly calming. A swipe of the hand to remove the sweat on his forehead, nervous laughter of accomplishment. 

_Maybe now it will all be over. No more outbursts. No more urges. I’ve fulfilled it, be gone Pon Farr. Let me be!_

This time, Jim took Spock along for a ride. They flew along Highway One down to Santa Cruz. At first Spock was attempting to coerce Jim into safer driving, but he realized the effort was for naught. The upside however, was he finally got to experience liberation. The same kind Jim tried to describe when he first showed him his bike. It was terrifyingly close to falling through the air at terminal velocity, the wind crushing any hint of expression. Spock didn’t know if he wanted Jim to slow down or go faster, but he was relieved when they finally stopped.

“How about you go find us a spot for lunch and I’ll go find a safe place to park this?”

“Let me guess, you desire something truly unhealthy.”

Jim laughed and kissed Spock on the cheek before driving down the road to find a parking spot. Spock could only sigh and take in his surroundings. A typical beach city, laid back and devoid of any real Starfleet influence. It made sense that Jim made it a crucial requirement that they wore nothing to signify their involvement, this was their weekend trip. Starfleet did not need to be involved.

He was a bit self conscious walking along the beachside road in casual clothing, as he rarely had the chance to dress down back in San Fran. But here in Santa Cruz, a Vulcan walking Beach Street in a t-shirt and joggers was nothing more radical than an Andorian surfing.

After a small conversation with a local and a short walk, Spock messaged Jim with the location.

“Found a place. I’ll just amuse myself by standing here alone looking lost.”

“The sarcasm has been real lately, babe. I’ll be there in a few.”

Of course the sarcasm has been “real.” He was fed up with Pon Farr.

Jim laughed to himself when he read the message. For a moment he thought Spock was deliberately learning humor and comedy to better identify with humans. But Jim realized that Vulcans could make perfectly good jokes. It made for quality dry humor.

He was about to get off his bike when a man in a blue hoodie stumbled past.

Something piqued Jim’s curiosity about this guy. The stumbling wasn’t it, he knew of countless species that looked like they stumbled around to someone who didn’t know better. It looked like there was something wrong with his clothes, like they fit, but they weren’t fitting properly.

_Why is his upper body so awkwardly stiff?_

Jim continued watching the figure stumble about down the street. He didn’t move until the man inched closer to a hover car. His eyes, barely visible because of the hood were shifting around.

_What the hell is he doing?_

So Jim quietly got off his bike to stay unnoticed. He was only a half block away from the hooded person. There was nothing Jim could do right now, the man was merely standing close to a vehicle. No crime, no warrant to accuse anyone of anything. Yet the whole situation was rather suspicious. Jim figured Spock could wait for a few more minutes. He wasn’t that far from the restaurant anyway. This man was just too interesting not to take note.

After a minute, the hooded figure crossed the street. He did the same thing to another hover vehicle: got increasingly close. From this view Jim could see the man was tinkering with something. There was some sort of instrument in his hand. He crouched down by a vehicle so he could watch without being seen.

_What is he using that for?_

Jim recognized the wand the man was using. It was a power drainer. Normally engineers would use them on ships to isolate power so they wouldn’t get injured, but were still able to retain power to the area they were working in. This man, Jim had to admit, was brilliant.

_Mother fucker is syphoning power cells! That asshole better not get anywhere near my bike. That retrofit took months to do and I don’t want to do it again._

Under the man’s hoodie was a blank slate of cells he was hiding. No wonder why his clothes looked off. So Jim rose up and yelled.

“Hey!”

The hooded man looked around, and upon seeing Jim he took off down the street. It was a good head start, Jim thought, but sooner or later he was going to have to ditch his power supply in order to keep his distance. The vest that was cleverly hidden weighed the man down, let alone diminished his breathing capacity.It also didn’t help that Jim was going on runs every morning, he had a time to improve.

Granted it was much harder to run in motorcycle boots than running shoes.

The man rounded the corner and ran into a patisserie trying to throw off Jim, but he didn’t fall for it. There weren’t many possibilities for a man to just disappear. The only logical choice was to hide in the nearest shop around the corner.

Jim slammed the door open. The glass shattered as it hit the wall, spilling into the entrance. The noise alarmed Jim but he concentrated before him at the man who was now realizing his plan didn’t work. Yet both of them didn’t realize how slick the glass made the hardwood floor. It was like ice.

Jim could not retain any grip on the floor. He slid into the hooded figure, both of them careening into multiple people and flipping over a table that had a full brunch splayed across pastel cloth.

There were shrieks as the commotion continued to unfold. Jim and the man scrambled on the floor, each trying to gain control over the other. Thanks to the man’s bulky outerwear, his mobility suffered. Jim pinned him to the ground.

Security arrived minutes after, both entering the establishment with phasers drawn. They were told two assailants robbed a place.

“Stand up! Both of you!”

_Great._

Jim stood and pulled the hooded man up as well. The two of them knew better than to make a move in front of a man with a phaser, so they raised their hands into the air.

“Can I explain?” Jim shifted his weight onto his right side, he seemed to have tweaked his hip while crashing through the entrance.

“Yeah man! Explain to me why you were chasing me!” The hooded figure tried another plan: get Starfleet Security to think this stranger instigated the entire thing.

Jim sighed, “shut the fuck up. I saw you syphoning power from those vehicles.”

Of the five security guards that responded, the commanding officer of the team stepped forward, holstering his phaser. “Syphoning power?”

“Look, I’m a cadet at the academy, I drove into town and when I was parking my ride I saw this piece of shit stealing power from two hovercraft parked on the street. I chased him down and made a mess of this place. My badge is in the left breast pocket of my jacket.”

He looked around at the cafe, it was a disaster, shattered porcelain and glass all over the floor, while Jim was wearing a brunch for two. The patrons of the restaurant were watching with great scrutiny. All they wanted was a good brunch without the commotion.

All the security officers lowered their phasers. Two of the officers grabbed the hooded man and cuffed him. Their commanding officer scowled. He read Jim’s badge and scanned it, confirming his identity. “There’s better ways to handle these things cadet--”

Jim nodded.

“--but I’m inclined to thank you. We’ve had several reports of power supply theft over the past two months.”

“He’s using equipment that’s only issued to star ships. I don’t know what that means for the guy, but I highly doubt he got it legally.”

The officers lifted up the blue hoodie revealing the technology he had underneath. The man muttered under his breath.

“Hey, give me 20 minutes, kay?”

Spock wanted to throw his communicator to the ground and stomp on it. 30 minutes had passed, it should not have taken this long to find a parking spot and walk to their location. He found a bench and sat.

The thoughts were hard to push away. Spock was infuriated. There was no telling what Jim was doing, but he was being careless enough to let his own boyfriend stand alone on a random street in a strange city with strange people. Didn’t Jim care that he was wondering where he was for that past half hour?

It was like betrayal.

Spock looked up to the sky, clear. Nature betrayed him as well. There could have been some clouds to keep him company.

“This is by far the most illogical strain of thoughts I’ve had,” he muttered. Spock opened up his log and recorded the instance.

“Spock, I’m so so sorry.”

He looked up from his log. A slight surprise.

No longer dressed in his bike-riding attire, Jim sported newly bought jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. Spock noted for later how the shirt hung on his body: Just loose enough to hide his obliques.

“You changed clothes.” He furrowed his brows. “You kept me waiting to go shopping for a new outfit?”

Jim was starting to laugh thinking it was another joke, but there was a rising tension coming from Spock. “Oh--you’re mad. Like actually really mad.”

“How fucking observant you are.”

“Wait, I haven’t even explain-”

“You’ve quite made me feel like I don’t deserve an explanation.”

“-ed why I was late!”

The two fell silent, staring at each other waiting for the other to speak up once more. Jim felt that Spock had enough of the conversation. It was also terrifying to see him and feel him with anger coursing through his veins. Anger that was directed at him.

“What the hell is going on with you, anyway?”

Spock glared in response.

“Okay, fine don’t answer. I’m sorry I’m not a fucking telepath that can utilize this bond to figure out everything on my own.”

Jim crossed his arms. Now he was in a sour mood.

“I just got my very first commendation. I’m sorry I was late. I didn’t want to show up looking like a mess.”

Spock continued to frown, and it wasn’t an obscured frown either. Anyone who was walking across the street would have been able to see it. He was irrationally angry. He put Jim in a bad mood as well. The least he could do was try to mend the situation.

“I’m sorry. I’ve … been rather out of sorts lately. I would like to hear about this commendation.”

So Jim explained what happened. He was rather excited about the commendation, as it was the first big positive event to go on his record. There was still tension between the two, but Jim’s cheeriness returned.

“Are you really okay Spock? Not to sound like I’m harping on you, but as of late you haven’t been concerned about expressing yourself.”

“I suppose as you said. You’re not telepathic, so our bond is not sufficient for you. Perhaps this bond of ours has had your emotions influence mine.”

It was of course a flat out lie, but he didn’t think telling Jim about his condition was suitable for this weekend. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to tell him at all.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Jim trailed off. He gazed at Spock who reverted to his emotionless state. “I’ve just been sensing a lot of anger from you. No one’s like bothering you? You’re not working too hard or anything?”

Spock was starting to realize that he may not be able to keep secrets from Jim any longer. While he was still far off from effectively communicating through their bond he was improving.

“Jim, I can assure you that everything is fine.”

Spock knocked on Bones’ office door.

“Hold on!”

There was shuffling heard and a loud clank of a cabinet door. Bones finally greeted Spock who once again looked as though as he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“Laudanum.”

“Excuse me?”

“Prescribe me laudanum.”

Bones grabbed Spock by the arm and pulled him into the office. He locked the door and put a dampening field around the room.

“Prescribe you what!?”

“I’d like a tincture of laudanum. Can you prescribe it?”

“The fuck Spock, no one has been able to prescribe that shit in 200 years!”

He sat Spock down and grabbed his tricorder.

“So you can’t prescribe it.”

“What do you need it for anyway?”

“What do you think?” It seemed as though Spock was picking up on Bones’ snark.

Bones grumbled. He was reading the stats that he scanned. He wasn’t happy with them. “According to your records you’ve never even had morphine. Like hell you’d think I’d do that to you?”

“At this point, I don’t care. I don’t care what it does as long as it takes away all these urges, all this spite and hatred and illogical strains of thought. I am absolutely SICK OF HAVING NO CONTROL OVER MY OWN BODY!”

Spock clenched his jaw trying to refrain from grabbing anything and throwing it in Bones’ direction. He had been resisting any urge as of late, any urge he had while Jim was right next to him he pushed out. But it would always come back hours with a fierce vengeance.

All Bones could do was let him express himself. It was his turn to be expressionless. If Spock needed to vent, this was the safest room on campus to do so.

“I tried to act on urges and it doesn’t help! I feel good for 30 seconds and then the internal fire just keeps persisting! So if acting on it doesn’t help then I have to try something else. I must repress as much as possible and force it out of my system with pure strength of my will! I just need help to get to that state!”

“You need to tell Jim.” Bones frowned upon looking at the final results of his scan. “You’re going to kill yourself if you don’t.”

He handed Spock the tablet, to which the Vulcan closed his eyes trying to forget what he saw.

“Spock, as your DOCTOR. As the guy with a medical degree and many many sleepless nights of getting that degree and many MORE sleepless nights perfecting my craft, I am telling you to get this handled before it’s too late.”

Spock shook his head. “I’m terrified. I am scared. I don’t know what to expect.”

“Have you talked to your father about this?”

The look of dread that overcame Spock put Bones into a tough position. Hehad the power to call Spock’s father himself or let it go entirely. He was edging on the former, because Spock was clearly neglecting himself.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking shit.”

Bones didn’t ever think he’d hear a Vulcan swear. He sat next to Spock. He carefully placed a hand on his shoulder. In return he grabbed on to Bones’ thigh. His eyes widened as he continued to stare at the wall.

“I’m bonded. My parents don’t know. My parents do not know that I am bonded.”

Medically speaking, Spock’s panic attack was an entire paper in itself. Bones grabbed a hypospray and prepared a tranquilizer.

“Take in a very deep breath Spock. Hold it for ten seconds … breathe out. Repeat with me.”

Bones walked Spock through a series of breathing exercises until he calmed down enough. He took the Vulcan’s pulse and scanned him once more.

“Hanging in there?”

Spock nodded.

“I can treat the residual effects, but I can’t treat the Pon Farr itself. That’s all on you. Your hormones are spiking, there’s a difference from the first scan I just gave you. Consider calling your dad?”

His voice was weak and shaky. His breath hadn’t fully returned to normal. “There is … a conference in a couple of weeks. He will be in attendance. I will speak to him then.”

Bones sighed. “All I can do is give you some anxiety medication. I’m mostly treating this as a mood disorder. But I can’t guarantee it’ll work exactly the same way it would on a human.”

“I do feel a bit better with whatever you gave me.”

“That was a gamble and I’m glad I came on top. Otherwise it would have been a very miserable couple of hours.”

He sat at his desk and started imputing information into Spock’s record. He ordered prescriptions and filled out a plan of action that he sent to Spock. He got so distracted with the paperwork he forgot Spock was still in the room until he heard sniffles.

Bones thought he was having a severely disturbing dream at this point. Spock was crying.

He was going to offer some words of wisdom when Spock shook his head.

“Dont.”

“Okay,” he nodded and gave Spock a little more space. “Everything is sent over to you. You’re free to leave the office whenever. I’m gonna go grab something to eat?”

Bones was trying to get Spock to come with him, but he wouldn’t move. He sat eerily still.

“No thank you. I will eat later.”

Spock left not too long after Bones did. He rushed home and changed out of his uniform. He contemplated going back out, at least the chemistry labs were open all night. So he grabbed a black hooded jacket to hide his face (he couldn’t trust his uncontrollable emotions) and strolled across campus. It was imperative that he didn’t call attention to himself for fear he might have an outburst on a stranger.

No one paid any attention to Spock. He was a regular just as any of the other science officers. While they all showed up in uniform, they stopped trying to manage the same standard. If brass showed up, everyone gave Spock a heads up. He’d slip away and reappear in a perfectly pressed uniform.

One of the technicians passed by. She offered a smile. “Oh. Mr. Spock those flowers you sent for last week arrived. They are so beautiful!”

He nodded.

His first plan was to outright ask for laudanum. Since Bones wouldn’t comply he had to fall back on his original plan. Earlier that year he took an interest in poppies. The flower was not hard to grow, its seeds could land on a random patch of grass and appear the next year. While the flower itself was beautiful, he was more interested in its pod.

The history was interesting. Once the most popular cash crop across the planet, it turned into a grey area of legality. Laudanum was used for all sorts of ailments. It repressed anger and in some cases caused euphoria. For others it induced sleep and took away their pain.

All of the benefits outweighed the risks in Spock’s mind. He’d rather feel euphoric over anger and sadness. He’d even rather sleep than stay awake trying to repress his sexual urges.

It all came back to how Jim felt. He desired to have sex. Deep down, Spock shared the same feeling. It would be easier if they got it over with, but that action alone would ultimately finalize their bond and their status in the Vulcan way of things. That finalization terrified Spock.

He cared deeply about how Jim gave up his polyamorous lifestyle for him. And while Spock would love to spend the rest of his life with Jim, he did not want to force that same decision on him. If they copulated, he’d be condemning Jim for life. Bonds like these were very hard to break, death was the only solution Spock knew of.

Jim deserved his freedom. He deserved the ability to break up with him. It hurt just thinking about Jim wanting out, finally leaving and trying to find his life again, only for their bond to drag him back.

He wished he could go back to that cold day. He wished he could end it there and make Jim forget all about his feelings. He wished they never attempted to meld in the first place. To take it back further, he wished he didn’t rearrange his schedule so he could take a class in the middle of the day through the week. He should have taken it in stride and took the 8 hour weekend session. He never would have met Jim Kirk. He never would have set eyes on the cadet. Spock would be up on a starship now, studying dark matter and discovering new worlds.

Spock loved Jim so much he’d rather lose everything he had with him, than to keep him chained up because of an alien mating ritual.

The poppies were beautiful. Even Spock on his best days can admit to a flower’s enhancement of a room. He took a scarlet poppy and smelled it’s fresh scent. The purple pollen rubbed off on his nose. He sneezed.

He struck the pods of a few flowers, letting the white sap ooze out. He took a few more flowers and put them in a dehydrator. For these he would need them entirely dried out to proceed with that experiment. The last remaining flowers he kept in the vase for aesthetic. He truly did love the poppies.

In order to reduce the risk of unnecessary questions, Spock grabbed paper and a pencil. He outlined his hypothesis and the rest of his method. Starfleet didn’t need to know, but one day he figured he could submit this experiment to the Vulcan Science Academy. For the time being, there was to be no traceable evidence as to his work.

Spock worked through out the night, isolating and preparing. He filled multiple vials and discretely put them in his pockets. Returning to the dried poppies, he crushed them, essentially making tealeaves. This was his first experiment.

Poppy tea was the safest method to start with. Inexpensive and mild, the concoction would be no different than what he’d normally drink before bed. He only hoped that this jar of dried flowers would stop his sexual urges and get him to finally achieve sleep.

And to dispel any further unnecessary questions, Spock retained some of the poppy seeds themselves. He looked up a recipe and tried baking for the first time.

The sweet smell of lemon and butter filled the chemistry lab. Cadets were wondering where the smell was coming from.

Spock appeared in the common room with a plate of lemon poppy seed muffins. He placed the plate onto a table, where the few cadets who had been up all night as well were joyously grabbing them.

“Did you really bake these, Mr. Spock?”

“I’m told I need to connect more with my department.” He grabbed a muffin as well. “I hear baking is a science.”

Another cadet started laughing. She blushed, as Spock took notice. “What a terrible joke Mr. Spock.”

He shrugged. “I apologize. I’m not really aware of any of the POPular jokes going around on campus.”

Everyone in the room groaned at the pun. It pleased him.

“Holy shit they’re made from scratch, though,” another cadet chimed in.

“Dude you gotta make more,” an officer grabbed his second.

Spock started to leave. “Perhaps another day, when the insomnia comes back.”

The first thing he did when he got home was make his first cup of poppy tea.

The feeling was unlike he’d ever experienced. Not even the strongest indica could compare to the strange overwhelming calm that coursed through his body. The fire that burned through his sexual organs ceased, or maybe they didn’t. Maybe the tea inhibited his mind so much that he couldn’t feel it.

It was the forgetfulness that surprised Spock. Multiple times he had to remind himself that he was high in the first place. “You drank poppy tea. You are high,” he wrote. He kept it on the table before him, so when he looked down the message would always be there.

The only emotion left in his body was content. He wasn’t overly happy or entirely emotionless. For once, everything felt normal. Everything was as it should be.

Spock wasn’t prepared for the length of the high. It was considerably longer than the high he got from marijuana. And even after the effects wore off, overall his body was still calm. It left him tired, so he finally was able to lie down and sleep. No fantasies, no dreams. Only empty blackness.

The next week, Spock relied on this regimen. He’d make an excuse to go home early to drink his tea and he’d fall asleep by 2 am. He’d awake at 7 am and continue the cycle.

Part of his plan was to also limit any kind of activities that would create a sexual urge. He wore gloves everywhere he went. He kept his distance from Jim. That didn’t go over too well.

Jim volunteered to help organize the conference that Spock’s parents were to attend (he had no idea though). He was in Spock’s apartment organizing entertainment when Spock asked what he was doing.

“So you know that delegate conference coming up? I’m working on that. The whole incident down in Santa Cruz got me thinking. I should get involved more. It’s the only way I can fast track a promotion.”

“You want a promotion?”

He laughed. “Who doesn’t?”

Spock sat next to Jim on the floor. He peered over to see the documents he was working on. “I suppose it’s an efficient way to get ahead of everyone else. Could have chosen a better event, however.”

“What does that mean?”

“Precisely what I just stated.”

Jim sighed. “Well I was thinking that since you’ve been avoiding me lately I’d do something that would force us to be in the same room together.”

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“You were reluctant to having me come over today.”

“I was reluctant because I was busy working on something.”

He looked around. Jim didn’t notice any work being done. Spock’s living room was spotless as ever.

“And what were you busy with?” He got up and packed his things into his bag. “Lying to me? I don’t appreciate lying, Spock. It’s not a satisfactory trait.”

The utterance of those words should have hit Spock like a fist to the face. Using his own words against him was a clever blow to Spock’s own standards. But he was still mildly high from a batch of tea he had earlier that morning.

“How about this, I’ll leave you alone since that’s what you clearly want. I don’t know why I even bother. Hell, I don’t even know why I love you as much as I do.”

Jim looked back at Spock who was still sitting on the floor. He was definitely more distant than usual. His empty stare was chilling. It was lifeless. This time, Jim couldn’t brush it off.

It was his turn to knock on Bones’ office door.

“I swear to god Spock I am not giving you fucking heroin!”

“Bones? It’s Jim?”

His door opened. Bones was once again working on his own papers, he really didn’t have the time to deal with more relationship issues with the two. He was required to study for his officer’s exam, he had 3 research papers due in the next month and he was still busy treating patients. Let alone Spock was a huge case load. He didn’t need to add Jim.

However he thought this was a sign to take a break for the evening. He held his finger up, letting Jim know he’d be a minute.

Bones returned, he locked the door, and he pulled Jim along the hall way.

“I’m not dealing with someone else melting down in my office we’re going somewhere public I do not have the patience.”

Jim was trying to catch up with Bone’s pace. When the man wanted to he could outrun any of his classmates. Piss him off, he could tirade down a hallway in seconds.

“Spock? Heroin? Melt down? What the fuck have you been doing? I just wanted to ask a question.”

“And that’s how it always starts. ‘I just wanna ask a question!’ And then they ask the question and then they start having a god damn panic attack in my office because I won’t let them have illicit drugs!”

They marched out the front doors of the infirmary onto campus. It was late in the evening where the last classes were finishing up for the day so everyone left on campus was there either to study or meet up with friends before heading into San Fransisco proper. Jim was thankful not many people were out, with the rage pouring out of Bones’ mouth he was sure someone would have been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

And Jim wasn’t paying much attention to how he was walking either. While tripping over his own feet or bumping into pieces of landscaping, Jim was rather focused on what Bones had to say. His implication was making sense.

“Spock asked you about heroin?”

“Laudanum, which is close enough. Your shit for brains bonded boyfriend husband whatever the fuck he is to you Vulcan is trying to get my medical license—!”

Bones snapped his mouth shut. He realized what he was going to admit if he didn’t shut up. Jim ran into him, he didn’t see that Bones had stopped. The good doctor wrapped his arm around Jim’s shoulder and they continued to walk down the sidewalk.

“I need a drink and so will you because I can’t answer everything.”

“Like why Spock is asking for heroin?”

“Well that is an easy answer, he just likes to ruin his body.”

Jim frowned. He knew how Spock wanted to experiment how his body would react to certain chemicals, but he couldn’t figure out how he found it logical to experiment with a substance with such an ugly history. 90 percent of opioids were still illegal to this day.

“You implied a panic attack? Spock? Is that—“

“I promise I’ll try to explain. You have to explain some things first.”

The 13 minutes Jim was left in the dark while they were walking to the bar was the longest 13 minutes he’d experienced to date. He’s had plenty of journeys to such establishments in worse conditions, but this time considering it concerned someone he loved, it was especially painful to wait.

Bones found a secluded area on the patio looking out over the bay. Not many people chose the patio that night, it was still chilly with the remnants of winter. In any case, Bones always carried a noise dampener with him just in case he may have to speak in confidentiality.

“Bones, what the hell is happening?”

His first two drinks were poured strong, he gulped them down to prepare himself.

“Jim, do you know what a mind meld is?”

He nodded.

“Have you experienced one?”

Jim furrowed his brows. “Yeah. Last year. I wanted to see what it was like.”

Bones took a sip of his drink as well. The whiskey was shit, but it hit hard when it needed to.

“And what was it like?”

“I, er…well,” Jim fumbled with his words. He remembered that night fondly. The first night he saw Spock completely naked and vulnerable. The first, and only, night he heard him orgasm, It was pure bliss.

Bones smiled, he teasingly laughed. “You’re blushing.”

“AM NOT!”

He bit his lip and after a few seconds he calmed down his racing heart. He couldn’t help feeling somewhat embarrassed.

“We mutually masturbated. He … didn’t want to do anything more. I’d been pestering him for some time about mind melds and well … it happened. I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

“You two seem to be on the same wavelength. I noticed that on multiple occasions. Even before he left.”

“Yeah. What is this even about anyway? What the hell does this have to do with Spock and heroin or a panic…” he trailed off. Jim knew there was something severely wrong, but he always tried to brush it off. Spock was more emotive, he was willing to partake in public displays of affection, no matter how small and insignificant they were to outsiders. And then there was one evening last week where Jim felt nervous for no reason. A dread came over his body out of nowhere.

He thought back further and the night where he was home all evening and Spock was drinking himself into a stupor, Jim couldn’t shake a sickly feeling that came over him. He was still wondering where the scars on Spock’s body came from.

“We share a connection. He called it a bond. It was kind of broken before but during Christmas he fixed it. I’ve never felt happier knowing he’s always there with me. I might not be able to be like other Vulcans that can speak through the connection but, I still feel him. Bones? Really, what are you getting at?”

Bones felt deeply sorry for Jim. Again another kid who made mistakes and he’s yet to realize how big they were. Again he’s the one to get them to figure it out. Didn’t these two idiots have their own families to teach them this shit?

“I swear Jim, I’m trying to get you to say things that will ultimately let me say my piece. I’m bound by privacy laws. I’ve given up too much on accident already.”

“Should we not have bonded?”

The doctor could only stare into his drink. He couldn’t handle looking at Jim any more. It was that frightful stare, the same one Spock gave him that hurt the very core of him. Bones couldn’t drive away the hurt from his own failed marriage, he still felt connected to her as well. Hatred and remorse, a flicker of love still shone through. A legal document couldn’t change that.

“My professional opinion? I wish you did your research. Personally?” He gripped the glass and downed the rest of his whiskey. “I am your friend. I will support you in any decisions you make. I will try my damnedest to help you through successes and mistakes. Fucking damnit Jim, you’re a smart kid. I get it. I get what being in love is like; I get how much it blinds!

“Why do you think I should have researched? Why is this a mistake?”

“Do you know what is actually means, IN VULCAN, to bond? What that precisely entails?”

Jim closed his eyes trying to visualize the conversations he had with Spock. The same word came back to him.

“T’hy’la. That’s the Vulcan word. I don’t really—I just know it describes us.”

Bones waved over a waiter and asked for another round. Jim sat silently as he waited for their beverages to show up. He was continuing to pour over every conversation.

_Very few people achieve this kind of bond. It’s sacred._

“Bones? Did I just shot-gun wedding myself?”

“Er, if that’s how you want to put it.”

“I mean, I’m not mad about it. Not gonna lie I DO wish I knew what it actually meant. I don’t think he knew what it actually meant, either.”

“I can assure you, he didn’t. At least he didn’t quite realize how much of a commitment it was.”

Jim laughed. A short nervous laugh. “Please be my best man!” The tears welled up in his eyes. “I—I guess, is this what he’s been freaking out over? I’ll marry him I just, so soon and I…”

Bones held up his glass. “A toast? Let’s drink to happiness. I’m tired of drinking to forget.”

“Heh, yeah! A drink. Or 5. Not to forget, but…celebrate.”

They clinked their glasses together and gulped down the remaining liquid. Bones didn’t have the heart or the direct reason to discuss Pon Farr with Jim. He couldn’t risk an already partly illegal revelation about Spock’s health. But then again the area was so grey in this situation because Jim and Spock melded. They shared their entire beings. Does that give Jim permission to learn about Spock’s secrets?

“Please talk to him. And I really mean sit him down. Whatever weirdness you’re getting from him, involves this.”

“That’s gonna be hard. I practically yelled at him today. That’s why I came to find you. I wanted to ask if you knew what was up. I know he hides things from me, I don’t mind. I respect people’s privacy. But he came at me for organizing the delegate conference. It’s just a conference! I thought he’d be pleased that I was taking a logical step to prove I am worthy of more responsibility and ultimately a promotion!”

“He came at you because you’re on the organizing committee for a conference that you’re going to be at, that he’s required to be at, and that his parents are going to be at.”

Jim gasped. “Bones! Do you?! Do you think his parents know? I only ever met his mom and that was video chatting cause I wanted to learn some things and—“

“They don’t know.”

“They can’t know.”

Jim pulled out his tablet and started typing. “Nope. They can’t know. I’ll just rearrange everything so they don’t ever see my face. Nope. I won’t see Spock there and if I don’t see Spock I won’t see them! Bones they won’t find out, they’ll be blissfully ignorant, but not really since Spock’s dad is emotionless as a rock, but still!”

“JIM!”

The cadet, in his drunken stupor stopped what he was doing. Bones was not any less drunk that Jim, but he was thankfully able to keep it together. It also helped that he wasn’t the one who found out he was essentially married.

“You really need to talk to Spock.”

Since that night Jim realized his commitment he made to Spock, he tried reaching out to him. He’d show up at the classes he was supposedly teaching, but there was always a teacher’s assistant there claiming something about personal leave. Jim checked the chemistry labs, to which there was no sight as well. He messaged him apologies and sweet nothings but no returns. It was the fourth night that Jim finally decided to knock on Spock’s door.

“I know you’re in there. I know it. I can feel you. I thought I was gonna give you space and keep my distance, but I just can’t anymore.”

“The door is unlocked.”

Jim was expecting a mess. The thought of a panic attack kept creeping into Jim’s thoughts. He thought he was going to see Spock in a state of delirium. However, as always his apartment was clean and perfectly tidy. There was a singular candle on the floor and above the candle hung Spock.

“What the ever loving fuck are you doing?”

“Meditating. A profoundly positive session.”

Jim never degraded Spock’s exploration of his own body. He liked the piercings and the tattoos. He respected his use of marijuana, even partaking on occasion. But seeing Spock with four hooks through his back as he hung from the ceiling was pushing that respect.

“I’m talking about the bloody hooks you’ve got going through your back.”

“Ah yes. It’s called suspension. Normally it’s a short term body modification. Only minutes. I’ve been hanging here for 4 hours 2 minutes and 48 seconds. Nyota helped me set it up.”

Jim fumed. “Nyota?”

“She has friends who practice this.” He reached out a gloved hand. “Will you help me down?”

Reluctantly, Jim grabbed Spock’s hand. He hated how there was no spark.

It took a few minutes for Jim to lower Spock to the floor. He untied the knots from the metal hooks, releasing Spock from his bonds. With the hooks still in his back he blew out the candle.

“We need to talk. And I mean really actually fucking talk.”

“About?”

“I read about what our bond really means.”

Inside his own home, Spock needn’t have feared using a frown. “Oh.”

“I get why you don’t want me anywhere near that conference.” Jim frowned as well. “But I worked hard while on that committee. I am still working hard.”

Spock dreaded the latter part of where the conversation was headed. He tried so hard to keep his mind stable. Only after a week had the poppy tea lost its most potent effects. With Jim standing in his living room, he was fighting the urge to kiss him, to wrap his arms around him, to grab Jim’s crotch just to hear him gasp in elation.

“Spock, I won’t go anywhere near them. You don’t have to say a word! I’m totally fine with us keeping this a secret! I mean there’s nothing wrong with what we have, right? No one needs to know about our bond!”

Maybe Jim didn’t know anything about the relationship between a bonding mate and Pon Farr, after all.

“Sounds perfectly logical to me.”

“Great! So you can stop freaking out! You can take off those gloves and we can go back to when he lied in bed together and kissed each other and were happy with each other!”

Spock tilted his head. He felt Jim’s desperation. Jim missed Spock’s presence. Spock missed Jim. But he was in a purgatory state where he couldn’t risk triggering the most dangerous stage of Pon Farr. For an unexperienced Vulcan, the blood fever was exceptionally dangerous. Spock realized that even at full capacity he was still too young to fully counteract the fever. He didn’t have the years behind him. With his current debilitation, experiencing blood fever alone would kill him.

The least he could do was kiss him on the lips. He grabbed Jim’s hand out of habit. Again, no spark. At least Jim could feel the kiss on a human level. It was something.

“I would not have agreed to meld with you in the way I did, if I did not love you. However—“

“You didn’t expect this.”

Spock held Jim’s hands and brought them up to his lips. He kissed his knuckles.

“I cannot entertain this right now. As much as I desire it.”

“But why?”

“We are too young. This is not a temporary thing. You cannot leave as you please. It is lifelong. If you should wish to cut ties, the pain would be unimaginable. I would always be a forethought in whatever endeavors you partake.”

“Having you with me for the rest of my life? I’d like that. Maybe it was fate, Spock. Maybe it happened because we’re just meant to be!”

Spock backed away. “You should choose to bond with someone. It should not be an accident. And even then, this bond. This particular bond we have is far different than any I have read about.”

“How is it so different? You said it was rare but it’s achievable. What is so damned different about us?”

The embarrassment rippled through the two of them like pebbles skipping across a glacial lake. Spock turned away from Jim, the sight of him brought too much shame.

Jim felt it as though it were his own. He wondered if a distraction would help.

“If I get these hooks out of you, will you tell me? Why is this so embarrassing?”

Spock stayed silent.

He sanitized his hands and grabbed one of the hooks. Jim was amazed at their weight. He carefully pulled the first one out. “Please, Spock? Please tell me. If this involves me, I deserve to know.”

Spock was warned about the stinging that came from removing the hooks. He tried to block it, but alas he was too compromised to block it out. He grunted as the pain intensified.

“I am not,” he started, the pain lessened as Jim finally removed the first hook. Three more. “I am not a fully matured Vulcan.”

“Not a fully mature…huh. So like you haven’t hit puberty?”

The embarrassment was maddening. Spock was thankful he wasn’t staring at Jim. He was thankful that Jim took the logical choice and started removing the second hook. He knew humans were quite skillful in finding distractions to keep their problems unsolved for as long as possible. Once again a human trait he could depend on.

“Not. Quite.”

“So like, when do they?”

Jim was meticulous with this hook.

“Around … my age.”

“And so that’s why this bond is different.”

“It should only happen to mature Vulcans. I…I do not,” he hissed as the pain from this hook’s removal shred through his shoulder. “It should not happen.”

“And when you go through puberty what does that mean for us?”

Jim was terrified when Spock responded to his question. Spock started to laugh. It was a laugh filled with terror and irony.

“We’ll just have to wait until my dad gets here!”

He stayed quiet while pulling out the last two hooks from his back. Jim stayed quiet when he grabbed a towel and wiped down Spock’s back, cleaning and attending to the wounds. He thought they’d look worse, but it was nothing more than a little inflammation.

Jim was a bit disgusted with himself. Again, this was just another lesson that he couldn’t project his own culture on others. Spock said he was willing to enter into a relationship with him. He said he was willing to explore their sexualities. Jim could feel how much Spock desired him, even know as they stayed silent in the living room.

Not one second did Jim think that a species whose life span was much longer than his own would also hit milestones later than a human’s. For all he knew, Jim manipulated Spock. He manipulated him in the worst ways.

“You didn’t.”

Spock turned himself around. Jim was sitting on the floor with him, trying to find words this entire time. Even now, Jim still couldn’t speak.

“Our minds develop faster than our sexualities, Jim. I was aware of everything we were doing and took the risks anyways.” He crawled over to Jim and leaned on him, the two using the sofa as a backrest. “I am, as my father puts it, logically impaired at times.”

“An idiot.”

“An idiot.”

The two welcomed their mutual agreement. They were both idiots. Morons. Dumb asses. Young. Too young for the decisions they thought they were old enough to make.

“Spock?”

“Mm?”

“When we were in Santa Cruz, I could feel it especially then. See it too. You were all sorts of irrational. It was almost like being with a stranger. You alluded to it. Are you? Are you hitting puberty?”

A sigh was all Jim needed. He wasn’t going to force the words out of him. He wrapped an arm around Spock and pulled him closer.

“It sucks going through it as a human. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you.”

“It sucks.”

“Random sexual thoughts?”

“Yup.”

“No idea why you’re happy one moment and pissed off the next?”

“Yeah.”

“Panic attacks?”

He felt slightly betrayed by Bones. Why else would Jim pick up on the panic attack.

“Did he tell you anything else?”

Jim felt the annoyance. “He had to get me to come to my own conclusions. Don’t get mad at him. He gives too much of a shit to see his friends struggle.”

“I should have told you earlier.”

“I wish you had.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Star Trek Day
> 
> In the meantime I am not responsible if you end up watching said movie alluded to in this chapter. Oh and one time during pub trivia we named our group "Captain Kirk's Nipples." We won.


	4. Sarek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sarek do not enjoy each other's company.

As with any conference that happens on a college campus, visitors were given tours of the campus itself as well as the city it resided in. Students were expected to create a welcome atmosphere and show off the best the school had to offer. It was no different at Starfleet Academy.

Ambassadors from around the Federation arrived days before the conference began, just to indulge in Earthly bounty. Some of them enjoyed the simple things Earth had to offer; its sun was stable, it had one moon. Nothing about the Sol solar system was overly impressive. Earth spun around in a paradise.

Jim spent the better part of his day checking in ambassadors. While the conference didn’t officially begin until the next day, they were all required to announce their arrivals in an official capacity: Get in, sign a form, and get out.

He looked up from his tablet to greet the next ambassador. His normal “welcome” faltered as we was staring at Sarek.

Sarek did not find it efficient to wait for this cadet to speak so he held up his badge to be scanned. “Sarek, of Vulcan.”

“Er, y-yes of course!” Jim fumbled with his tablet and scanned in the ambassador.

Jim had never laid eyes on Sarek. His presence was a force. Sarek himself may not have realized it, but his presence in the room commanded respect. It was the respect of wisdom and intelligence, anyone who made contact with him said the same thing:

“Be polite. Be respectful. Above all, tone down all your emotions.”

He walked passed Jim without another word. He was more interested in finding Spock, who reluctantly agreed to meet for dinner. His son told him he was functioning as a campus ambassador, essentially a tour guide, and would be stationed at an information kiosk.

How belittling to a Vulcan.

“Spock,” he nodded at his son.

Spock bowed in return. “Sarek. I was not expecting you this early in the day.”

“Your mother wanted to explore the city. I thought it only logical to visit you early. Without any emotional interventions.”

Spock nodded and lead his father out of the conference hall. It was a windy day, the petals of the cherry blossoms flew by.

“It would be logical to find a secluded area. I offer my home. I need … to speak to you about something.”

Sarek let his son lead him to the apartment. He was fascinated with seeing Spock’s taste in aesthetic. It of course had been influenced by his surroundings and the illogical species he kept company with, but it was sufficient. Spock’s home provided for him in all aspects.

“I never understood your fondness for orchids, dahlias, poppies.” He gently stroked a petal of an orange poppy, “what purpose do they serve?”

“The same purpose as a painting. As all art serves. They inspire thought. If one does not indulge in thoughts, how does one function?”

Sarek nodded. “To have thought breathes consciousness and fuels life.”

“Father, I would like to narrow this topic.”

“Father?”

Spock rarely called Sarek as he was, his father. Their relationship was always strained, he didn’t feel like he could always refer to the elder Vulcan as his dad. There wasn’t logic to it. They functioned separately. He hoped using the word clued Sarek into the importance and the vulnerability he was displaying. He hoped Sarek was approaching him as his father and not just a biological relation.

“I have … um … The past few months have been difficult. I need your help.”

“You are committed to Starfleet. I cannot, despite my status within the Federation, get you discharged.”

He of course was projecting his distaste for Spock’s joining. It would always be a contention between the two. Spock refused to enter the Vulcan Science Academy, Sarek threatened to disown him, and Amanda had to play middle man to get the two to entertain the idea of talking. When Sarek saw that Spock was still making great strides in his personal endeavors, he reluctantly started talking to Spock again.

“No, it is nowhere near that topic. I am,” Spock sighed, “I am m-maturing.”

“As all Vulcans your age do.”

Sarek, wise in his years, saw the very real shame that flashed across his son’s face. He realized this wasn’t going to take a normal conversation. So he did as most Vulcan fathers had to do when their children misbehaved and they weren’t telling the truth: It was a forceful meld, just enough to get to the point.

“Your first Pon Farr Spock is just as everyone’s first Pon Farr. Shameful, long, debilitating at times.”

“It feels as there is no purpose to it.”

“I would say that its purpose is for you to understand yourself on a primal level. When we experience Pon Farr, our bodies eliminate our ability to hold back our emotions. We must revert to our pre-evolutionary stages. It is the only way for us to propagate our population. The first time is for you to understand yourself before you accept a mate. If you cannot understand your own desires, how can you share them with another?”

Spock shut his eyes. “I do not think you explored deep enough into my thoughts.”

“I would rather you choose to explain yourself. It is illogical to—“

“It’s illogical to what? Be ashamed in front of my father who is to everyone around him the perfect definition of a Vulcan? I carry YOUR reputation with ME at all times despite being half human. Your colleagues continuously murmuring behind my back: ‘There goes Sarek’s son, why can’t he be more logical as he is?’ They call me a half-blood, they do not see me as a real Vulcan. Yet they in the same breath hold me to the same standards as every other. Is it illogical to feel hopeless because I have to carry around your reputation and can’t have any leniency when I am suffering at the hands of Pon Farr?”

Sarek normally would have shunned Spock for his reaction. Yet understanding his body was not in any capacity to repress emotion, he merely nodded.

“I was going to say that it is illogical to keep information from me that may help you. But you have made your point. You feel as though that just being my son puts harsher expectations on you. I will not deny that is correct. I will also not deny that if any Vulcan were to come across you and knew you were experiencing Pon Farr, they would understand. As taboo as the subject is, you’d find a surprising amount of Vulcans that are forgiving.

“I remember my first. An experience I do not wish for again. I never wish for the 7-year cycle. It is merely a part of life now. It will become a begrudging part of your life as well Spock. This first time, I do not think you have much to fear.”

Spock was thankful to hear Sarek speak about the subject. It was irrationally comforting to know other Vulcans could forgive an outburst due to Pon Farr, he just witnessed it from his own father. But as Sarek continued on with his speech he couldn’t help but think of Jim and their bond.

“Father, I have very much to fear. I have bonded. I am experiencing a matured version of Pon Farr. I will likely hit the fever. I will likely die.”

“Why was your mother and I not informed?”

“It was unintentional.”

Sarek held out his hands. “Let me hear your thoughts.”

This meld was not forceful. It was a familial meld where a parent and offspring could impart on one another. It was used infrequently as it could lead to dependency, but it was a tool for parents nonetheless.

He could feel all of Spock’s desires and urges, thankfully the familial bond they shared blocked the transference of desires. The images of Jim and the dim flashbacks to Spock’s drunken rage in this very room, alarmed Sarek. Spock was indeed going through Pon Farr, but the bond he had was older. It should have been impossible. Immature Vulcans do not have bonding mates.

Sarek released Spock from the meld. He folded his arms, deciphering a possible solution.

“You are not ashamed of me,” Spock asked.

“I am not ashamed. I will admit I do not like this choice in mate. I do not approve of your informal attire. I do not understand your choice to perform body modifications. The hair cut is incredibly illogical. Of all the things you do that … push boundaries, you are my son. You are of my blood, and our connection to each other is more important than trivial actions.”

“I do not know how to proceed.”

“You will need to teach him the rituals.”

“What if I desire not to include him?”

“You must. That is the function.”

The last time Sarek saw Spock cry was when the boy was 2 years old. He had just come home, Spock was playing outside and Amanda, ever so attentive was watching him. The little toddler saw his father and came running to him on not so stable legs; he tripped and fell. The little boy cried because he scraped his knee. Amanda was going to tend to her son, but Sarek picked up the little Vulcan. She was amazed when Sarek said nothing about logic or illogic. He placed a finger on the little boy’s nose, effectively booping him. The little boy grabbed Sarek’s finger and the tears stopped.

He watched the tears flow down Spock’s cheeks. Sarek could only let it happen. He felt the rage burning in his son’s body, the Pon Farr coursing through every nerve ending. It was logical for Spock to show outright emotion. It was also concerning. Every Vulcan doctor they visited told Sarek and Amanda the same thing: despite being half human, Spock would have to be careful just as any Vulcan would with expressing emotions. It was a deep pain, that only Sarek could feel now that he melded with his son, to watch Spock in tears.

“I condemn a human to an alien mating ritual, a status, on a planet he has never visited. You know as well as I he will no longer be able to feel any real love for anyone else if I put him through those rituals. I cannot let that happen!”

“I will not let you die, Spock.” Sarek pulled out his tablet and started typing. “Do not tell your mother about this. She would have an emotional breakdown. We will attend dinner as usual. I will contact a few of my colleagues. In the meantime, I suggest you teach your mate. I do not know how or if Plak Tow will affect a human.”

“If it does?”

“You WILL have to follow the rituals. The illogical actions you took do have consequences, my son. I cannot will them away.” He bowed in respect for Spock letting him into his home. “While I have functions to attend before our dinner, I believe you have some of your own.”

Before Sarek closed the door behind him he turned to his son once more.

“It is a family dinner, perhaps it is wise to bring him along.”

When Spock was finally alone, he slumped down onto the floor. His own father entertaining the idea that his mate was already family. Not once did Sarek address Jim by his name. Did he know or was he not concerned with specifics during their meld? Sarek was a masterful telepath, it wasn’t just family status that set him apart from other Vulcans.

He texted Jim. “Dinner. 20:00. I will meet you at your place.”

Sarek meanwhile checked the chronometer while he strode over to the infirmary. 15:00. Enough time to execute this side task before he had a meeting with his colleagues. This trip to the infirmary would prove useful. He wanted to make a proposal for his fellow Vulcans: Lay off Spock. He needed medical evidence however to back up that proposal.

An ensign greeted him at the front desk, he even bowed before Sarek.

“What may I help you with Ambassador?”

“Do any of your doctors specialize in Vulcan physiology? Or at the very least have the ability to treat one?”

The ensign nodded, but he was hesitant. How was a blank slate going to react to someone as extremely animated as Dr. McCoy? Leonard was pretty much the complete opposite of a Vulcan.

“I will have to call the doctor, sir. He’s not scheduled today.”

“I will wait.”

Sarek moved off to the side of the front desk where he wouldn’t be in the way of other people trying to get information. He watched the ensign closely, dialing the right numbers and waiting.

“Hey Dr. McCoy? I gotta Vulcan at the front desk here and he wants to talk to you.”

Even for Sarek’s heightened hearing, the yelling on the other end of the call was unintelligible. A privacy protocol, scrambling voices, a logical use for the technology, Sarek noted.

“Uh no, no nonono! It’s not Spock! It’s the Vulcan Ambassador.”

Sarek rose a brow, his interest piqued.

The ensign ended the call. He looked relieved. “Sir, the doctor will be here in five minutes. Do you need water or anything else while you wait?”

The Vulcan nodded his head. A small thanks to the ensign. “No. I shall seat myself out of the way.”

McCoy strode through the front doors in full dress uniform. Overall he was in good spirits, but irritated that he had to once again come into the infirmary on his day off. And even then this day off was still a stressful cornucopia of events. He just finished with his officer’s exam.

The ensign pointed to the direction of Sarek. The Vulcan, to the surprise of the two humans did not sit as stiffly as they would have thought, he was relaxing on the leather chair. Even Vulcans can appreciate leisure.

“Doctor McCoy, sir,” he held out his hand, but the Vulcan merely stood and nodded. “What can I help you with?”

“You’ve been treating my son?”

McCoy nodded. He lead the Vulcan down the hallway. “I think this conversation would be best held in private.”

When they reached McCoy’s office, the doctor went through the normal privacy protocols. With the noise dampener in place he offered Sarek to sit.

“I’ve been TRYING to treat your son.”

“He told me of his affliction.”

“Ah! So he finally caved! I tried to get him to talk to you earlier but he refused.”

“It is difficult for a Vulcan to admit they are in an emotional state. We do not like discussing our mating rituals.”

“Honestly? I still don’t know about them, really. I knew very little about Pon Farr. I didn’t even know how comparably late in life Vulcans mature. I had no idea there’s a different kind of Pon Farr for Vulcans maturing for the first time.”

Sarek furrowed his brows. “I will make information available to you, and ONLY you. I need to you keep a close watch on my son. He is due to hit Plak Tow at any time. And while I have the ability, I need to send for someone who can be a mediator. It is unwise for direct family to take part in this. If Spock does reach this state in Pon Farr while I am still trying to reach a mediator, he will need to be placed into a comatose state.”

He handed McCoy his tablet which had a list of symptoms he needed to watch for. The doctor nodded.

“I will make sure Spock is well taken care of.” He frowned. They’ve given so much attention to Spock, he’d forgotten all about Jim’s place in this mess. What happens to the bonding mate if Spock hits this very fatal stage?

“I would make the same recommendation for his mate. At least, keep watch over him as well. I do not know how a human will respond. I have been fortunate to never experience this severity with my wife.”

McCoy pondered for a moment. He went over to his computer and typed in a few notes. “It’s possible they could both die.”

“Correct. It’s important that they are watched. I got the impression from Spock that he is already trying to resist any action that could make the Pon Farr progress. I trust my son and his ability, but coupled with his irrationality and his human mate, my trust is limited. If you could send me what you can, I need to provide documentation. I have a mediator in mind, but I’d like them to fully understand the situation.”

McCoy nodded. “Of course. I’m limited due to privacy laws, but I’ll send you what I can.”

Sarek showed himself out of McCoy’s room. It was enough information he wanted to verbally share. As experienced as he was, of all the Pon Farr’s Sarek had been through, he still felt the shame from letting his walls down. He was a Vulcan, prideful in his logic. It was distasteful to admit weaknesses to a human doctor.

When Jim received the text, he was following Nyota around. She decided after the night she won trivia with Spock that she’d try to give Jim a chance. When he signed up to be on the organizing committee she bet herself that he’d be too overwhelmed and quit. Jim proved her wrong.

Maybe Jim wasn’t as bad as his reputation on campus led her to believe. So she took the liberty to teach him everything she knew about running an event. If Spock was so adverse to her fighting against him, she decided to make him her protege. She forced him to study every little detail about species attending and protocols. Nyota quizzed him every time they crossed paths on campus. She sent him home with extra work. Oh she still wanted him to suffer, but at least now there was a purpose to it.

“The paperwork and all that, the invitations and securing facilities? That’s really the easy part. The hard part is getting all of these people together and make sure that their differing cultures don’t ruin the atmosphere. So this week is super crucial.”

Jim nodded in agreement. “Yeah I’ve been noticing that. Nyota, at first I thought it was stupid to have me study every single species coming to this. I thought you hated the idea of my being here and so you just gave me busy work.” He laughed, “but it’s coming in handy!”

She rolled her eyes. “James, you’re dating my best friend and if he finds out I’ve been throwing you for a loop he’d cut off all ties with me.”

Nyota wanted to leave it there, but she thought better. “You’ve been doing a really good job, by the way.”

“Yeah!?”

She nodded.

They just left the main conference hall where they were checking on every aspect before the main speeches and workshops got underway. Jim checked for messages after the familiar tone rang from his pants pocket.

“Oh and put that thing on vibrate next time, will you?”

“Fuck.”

For a split second Nyota thought he swore in response to her request. She watched him stare down at the screen. All color left his face.

“Yo, what’s wrong?”

“Er…nothing. I’ve gotta dip out early tonight.”

“James, you look like you’ve got a Dear John letter.”

If anything it could have been a Dear John letter. Maybe Spock finally found out how to break their bond for good. He dreaded the thought. One day he’d wake up and all memory of Spock would be gone.

“Spock wants me to go to dinner with him.”

“And shouldn’t you be relishing in that? He’s never invited me out to dinner.”

“He’s never invited me out to dinner either! I’m the planner in this relationship. If I want to go out I ask him!”

“That boy is so hard to read sometimes.”

Jim laughed. “He’s hard to read all the time, that’s why he’s so fascinating to be around.”

“Well then, good luck with whatever he’s planning for you. If anything it’s just him trying to get out of something with his parents and you’re the perfect excuse.”

Jim’s heart skipped a couple of beats. He actually felt faint. Before Nyota could ask anything more, he waved and dashed off. “Tomorrow! I’ll see you early!”

He rushed home without a response to Spock. There wasn’t any need. He would show up at the correct time whether Jim was ready or not. He just recently learned, when a Vulcan makes a plan they adhere to it.

The nervousness overwhelmed him. What does he wear? Does he stay in his formal uniform or does he dress down, but wear formal attire? Where was this dinner, anyway?

Jim figured he’d stick to his dress blues.

The cold water relieved Jim of his pent up tension. He was stressed because of the conference, he was stressed because of Spock, he was overwhelmed with both his and Spock’s feelings. With all of his duties he hadn’t the time to reflect on himself.

The longer Jim stood in the shower the more worried he grew. There was a strange fiery feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t place. It was heated desire. He imagined Spock in front of him. He imagined pressing his lips against that heated soft skin, but the orgasm that followed, which under normal circumstances alleviated Jim’s urges, didn’t work. The heat was still there.

_Is this really what Spock has been feeling? How come I haven’t been able to feel this until now?_

Spock waited at the door. He heard the footsteps come closer. His heart leapt.

Those blue eyes were bright as ever. They gleamed instantly upon looking at him. The soft face was irresistible. Spock cupped Jim’s face in his gloved hand. He wanted so much to spark their bond.

“You are a pleasing—” Spock thought better of it. Jim was his mate. He deserved better. “You are incredibly handsome.”

Jim smiled and brushed a lock of Spock’s hair back into place.

“You’re impossibly gorgeous.”

“Impossibly?”

“Every time I look at you I wonder how in the universe someone like you exists.”

A rare occurrence, Spock blushed. Jim was going to kiss him, but he noticed a couple of Vulcans standing across the street.

“Who are they?”

“Escort. Don’t pay them any attention.” He brushed his lips against Jim’s. Spock couldn’t trust himself to go any farther. Thankfully Jim was still too distracted to notice Spock’s restraint.

“Why do we need an escort?”

“My father likes to make them show up when he’s in town.”

One of the escorts held the door open for Spock and Jim. They filed into the back seat of the hover car.

“Okay this is weird, I’ve only seen this in movies.”

“I suggest you don’t think about it. Pretend it’s,” he paused to remember the word, a recent edition to his pop culture knowledge, “prom.”

Jim laughed, “I mean if it’s prom…”

He slid closer to Spock, taking his hand, “maybe you could remove those silly gloves of yours.”

Another rare occurrence. Spock glared. He pulled his hand away.

“You know I cannot and Will Not entertain that right now.”

Jim nodded and slid away from him. He knew Spock had the potential to fly into a rage, he couldn’t be the one to push him over the edge. But he longed for Spock’s touch.

“So where is this dinner?”

“My mother chose it. She said it’s traditionally Indonesian. That explanation doesn’t mean anything to me however.”

At least Jim could get excited about food. It felt like it was the only thing he was allowed to be excited about.

“Indonesian food is great! I think you’ll really enjoy it. It’s actually really Vulcan friendly!”

“How considerate of her. Sometimes I half expect my mother to make unwise travel choices, as you do.”

Jim frowned. “I’m sorry but that milkshake was incredible, you have no taste.”

“So incredible you had to make a 5 mile detour?” Spock wasn’t entirely mad at their return trip from Santa Cruz. He learned how distracted humans could get despite sitting on an uncomfortable bike for two hours straight. For Jim it was food. He’d travel a considerable distance for something enjoyable and well made. Spock could only tease him.

“Yes.”

“Fucking illogical human.” Spock’s slight smile could be seen in the reflection of the window.

“So? Dinner with your mom? And uh, your dad too I suppose?”

He nodded. “Family dinner. He asked for you to come.”

“To family dinner.”

The two of them sighed in tandem. Spock grabbed Jim’s hand. They could feel it through their bond, their shared distress at their predicament. Spock’s encroaching threshold into maturity, Jim’s penultimate obligation. He couldn’t do what Spock did to him; Jim had to tell him.

“Spock?”

“Yes?”

“It’s a deep weird knot-like burning feeling, right?”

He turned to face Jim so fast, he could have given himself whiplash. Jim lied his hand on top of his lower abdomen.

“Right here, right?”

“Since when?”

“I felt it coming on this morning. It really didn’t show up until a few hours ago.”

Spock felt Jim’s forehead. He wasn’t sure how at all a human would end up going through the fever. Whether a real fever was involved or not he didn’t know. He had to check. Jim’s head didn’t feel any different than how it always felt.

“For now, stay aware of it. I’m sure my father will have some advice…at some point…I hope.” Spock leaned his forehead onto Jim’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I did this to you.”

“I mean, I’ve had some weird sexual experiences before, but this takes it all.”

“Please don’t make light of this.”

“I know. You don’t want me to, because it’s a serious situation. But, I can’t but help laugh? A lot of nervous laughter, I’ll admit, but I have to laugh. I’m meeting your parents for the first time. Yeah, I mean I talked to your mom, but that was it. Your dad invited me to family dinner! You know what he’s gonna do the entire time?”

“Jim, please…”

“He’s going to sit there and interrogate me. He’s going to dissect my answers. He’s going to judge me from the strands of hair on my head down to how my foot prints look on the beach. I bet he’d go so far as to having me write some thousand-page paper on some backwards fucking philosophy. He’ll disparage me until you defend me to see just how real our bond is. He’s right at this very moment detailing every little criteria he has to see if I am worthy of you as your mate, as your husband, as a part of YOUR family.”

Spock groaned. He had not moved. “Jim. He will not go that far.”

“How do you know!?”

“He’s already said he doesn’t approve of you.”

Jim frowned. “Dude, what an asshole! I’ve only said three words to the guy! How does he not approve of me!?”

It was interesting for Spock to hear Jim speak so candidly about Sarek. Most conversations he’s heard has only been of reverence for the man. Any anger towards him was from another politician, but never would they refer to him as an asshole.

“You really want to know why my father does not approve?”

Spock leaned back on the seat and held out his hand. He started to count on his fingers.

“One: You are human. Two: You are far too emotional for his taste. Three: You are male. Four: You are in Starfleet. Five—“

“Okay, shut up I get it. I fulfill nothing for his expectations. But come on, really? Male?”

“Male? Yes. A Man? He has no issue with that. But as far as he’s concerned with his lineage, a human male cannot possibly provide that function. And if you were, again you’re human. A further decline of Vulcan traits.”

Jim was being petty, he wasn’t used to having logic thrown at his face, degrading his existence on a biological level. He folded his arms, grumbling.

“It sounds like you share in some of his reasons.”

“What gives you that impression?!”

Spock’s response, which sounded disturbingly human to the both of them, was wavered. He couldn’t keep his even tone anymore.

“You sound pretty confident.”

He was sharing Jim’s experience. “It’s true! Even now! I’m imparting on your—your absurd reaction to all of this!”

Jim sighed, “god I can’t wait until you go back to normal.”

“May I remind you,” Spock wrapped his arms around Jim pulling him into a purposefully awkward and uncomfortable hug, “you’re stuck with me forever.”

Bones should have been at home. He was defeated as his day was nothing but a mess. The only good out of it was he passed his examination. The exam was more of a formality, but he was now a fully fledged Lieutenant Commander. No longer did Bones have to deal with being a student, no long days juggling homework and work at the infirmary. Now he could spend all day researching and treating patients without any distractions.

He thought his night would be quiet, but Sarek once again asked a favor. He needed an outside observer. How do Spock and Jim interact? Were there any signs of Plak Tow? Bones agreed, he did want to help his friends, and that meant helping Sarek.

Plus Sarek offered to pay for any drinks he’d have for the duration of their dinner.

“Welcome to the shit show, Leonard,” he took a swig as he watched Jim and Spock sit down at the reserved table. “Too bad I can’t get wildly shit faced.”

Jim was nervous. The combination of his own nervousness with Spock’s imparting of his Pon Farr on him, made him nauseous. Maybe dinner wasn’t the best idea.

Amanda was pleased to see Jim, at least he had that going for him.

“Ah, so we meet again! I had an inkling there was more to what you were letting on.”

He looked down at the table, averting her gaze. “Heh yeah I uh, don’t really like telling the parents of someone I’m dating that I’m dating them without you know…”

“Their son telling them first?” Amanda smiled. “Well I hope that gift of yours turned out well.” She glanced at Spock.

“It was thoughtful, and serves its purpose, mother.”

Sarek sat in silence watching Jim. There wasn’t much he could do, they were already bonded. Normally he’d have liked to interact with a prospect of his son’s. Now he had to imagine what life would be like going forward.

Was Jim able to respect Vulcan customs? Would he be like Amanda and learn from Surak?

“Amanda,” Sarek didn’t take his eyes off Jim, “how did you two meet?”

“Well, I was giving some lectures and James asked for a personal session to ask more questions. I accepted his request. It was really quite sweet, he wanted to know about holidays on Vulcan. Oh Spock, do you have it with you? I’m sure your father would love to see it.”

“Amanda that’s ill—“

“Sarek, accept the verbiage. You know what I mean.”

Spock pulled out the IDIC from his pocket. He carried it with him wherever he went.

Amanda smiled. “It turned out so well! Oh James, this is a beautiful piece.”

Sarek inspected the IDIC. The metal was of good quality. The green crystal at its heart was pure. He was fascinated by the pixel-like faceting.

“You made this?”

“With help,” his voice cracked. Jim was terrified of talking to him. “I was able to work with a blacksmith and a cutter. They did most of it, but they also showed me how to use their respective tools.”

Sarek nodded in response. So the kid had the capacity to respect people’s professions and enough wisdom to consult others for help. He passed that test. Yet he still wasn’t satisfied. Spock deserved someone who was compatible, not only physically, but mentally as well. He didn’t know the basis of their bond, maybe compatibility was the reason why it was able to be fostered before Spock’s maturity. Maybe it had nothing to do with it at all and it was an illogical move on Spock’s part. Whatever the case, Sarek needed to know more. Could the human handle Plak Tow? Or would they both be too weak to handle the forthcoming fever?

“It is quality craftsmanship. I would do as Spock has done and carry it with me at all times.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Bones didn’t notice anything of importance. He turned his attention to the bottles lining the bar. Maybe he’d try some top shelf gin.

“The Ambassador has you working as well,” one of the Vulcan escorts asked.

“What do you guys do? Just sit and watch ‘em live a life you can’t have? Or what?”

“We do as you do. We drink.”

They clinked their glasses together. Bones never would have thought he found something in common with a Vulcan.

He looked back over to the table, he just caught a glimpse of Spock brushing Kirk’s thigh with his hand.

“What am I watching some fucking slow-burn porn or something?” He motioned the bartender to pour him another drink.

The only thing Bones could jot down was how reserved Jim was. Normally he was a punk, a headstrong kid that enjoyed challenging everything. He’s seen Jim in class, he sits there and does absolutely everything he shouldn’t be doing, but then comes on top when there’s a test. He wondered if it was being in Sarek’s presence. If he for once found something to take seriously.

Sarek documented everything. From what Jim ordered, to how he ate, to how he drank. The way he sat at the table, the way he glanced at Spock now and then. It was mostly a conversation between Jim and Amanda, but the two Vulcans found it better to listen with few interruptions. Sarek couldn’t find any logical reason to dispute Spock’s bond other than the biological function, but he still found the entire situation displeasing. If anyone found out Spock was bonded before maturity, he’d be vilified and his own reputation would be questioned.

How could Sarek raise a son who did not follow Surak? How could Sarek let his son explore with so much promiscuity? How could Sarek live with such a disgrace of a Vulcan?

He needed to protect Spock, and therefore himself, at all costs.

“James, what is your intention at Starfleet?”

He chuckled. “You know, I joined on a bet? My mentor bet me I couldn’t make it in Starfleet. My mom and my dad, they’re in it. It’s a family thing. I mostly spent my life doing nothing, but my mentor thought I could be just like my dad, I didn’t think so at the time, but now…”

Jim had been so involved with Spock he forgot what he was working towards. Of course he wanted to prove everyone wrong, that he could be Mr. Starfleet, but his real goal? He couldn’t believe he admitted it to Sarek before anyone else.

“I want to do what my dad did. I want to explore. I want to help others. I want to take what he started and continue it. He took command of a Starship, and in order to save everyone he blew himself up. I’ll command a starship. I’ll take us all sorts of places. We’ll explore and we’ll learn. We’ll thrive. All the things he couldn’t. But if it comes down to it, I’ll blow up the ship and myself too if it means saving lives.”

It was very human. Sarek noted this too, but the root of it all was logical. Carry on his family legacy. That’s what he ultimately wanted Spock to do as well. James Kirk wanted to do as Spock did, albeit in a different form, they both wanted to learn more about the universe they lived in. Were human curiosity and scientific curiosity one in the same? How could Sarek justify his distaste for Jim now? 

It came to two factors, there was no way for this relationship to produce a genealogical extension of his family. There was no procreation. This relationship was purely out of physical desire. It was not Vulcan. This was Spock’s human side.

And yet, Sarek himself thought it illogical to dislike a relationship based purely on the sex of his son’s partner. The universe, as illogically logical as it was, willed for this event to happen. He didn’t subscribe to what people called fate, but there sure was enough evidence to consider why so many species worshiped it.

“Starfleet will serve you your purpose, cadet. It is serving Spock in his.” He took a drink of his water, studying Jim even more. “What do you want out of life?”

He asked the question as emotionless as ever. Spock though clenched his jaw guessing why Sarek asked such an open ended question. Amanda pinched the bridge of her nose. Sarek did have the tendency to not know when to shut up, it was one of those times.

“Sarek, how about we enjoy dessert?” She pursed her lips when Sarek opened his mouth.

“Dessert. I suppose a bit of indulgence is logical for this occasion.” He alerted the waiter whom recommended a dish. Sarek accepted it, he couldn’t care for dessert any more than he cared for a wine menu.

“What is klepon?” Spock looked at the menu. He tried to find the listing.

“It’s a rice cake flavored with native leaves from the island of Java. It has coconut on it too.” Jim spouted off the answer like nothing. “I freeze them in the summer and eat them when it gets really hot.”

“A fan of Indonesian food, James?” Amanda smiled, happy she chose a place that was pleasant for everyone.

“I mean, I don’t go out of my way to eat it all the time.”

“Jim logs every restaurant he ends up in.” Spock looked through the menu once again.

Sarek raised a brow, “and why is that?”

How he hated being put on the spot by this man. It was becoming detestable. Jim’s patience was wearing thin. He wasn’t sure if he could finish out the night.

“Because if I like something I wanna look it up and know where it came from. We don’t have to have restaurants. Everyone can live off replicators. The reason we still have these establishments is to share experiences.”

“And that is what you enjoy out of a culinary experience?” Sarek was perplexed.

“My husband, food is not just food for us.”

The klepon arrived on a platter. Each serving was wrapped delicately in a palm leaf. Amanda thanked the waiter, she smiled as the presentation proved her point.

“Precisely my case!” She handed everyone their share of the dessert.

“Utensils?” Sarek looked around the platter for chopsticks.

“Your hands, Sarek.” Spock picked up the klepon. He popped it into his mouth unquestioningly.

“But our hands, are—“

“—Are tools for manipulating and also eating.” Jim interrupted. “Not everything needs a fork.”

“If you desire me to eat with my hands, then I desire you to answer the question you have not.”

“I can’t answer your question.” Jim gritted his teeth.

“Why not?”

“It should be obvious why I can’t.”

“Then you are avoiding it.”

“I’m not even 30 years old, dude.”

Amanda stifled her laughter. Spock looked down into his lap, trying to avoid everyone. Jim and Sarek were having a staring match. Jim was fed up at this point. The questions were pointless, and he was right. How can he know what he wants out of life?

Sarek was baffled, yes truly baffled at the illogical course in which Jim reacted. He gave him a suitable speech about what he wanted from Starfleet, he surely could have devised one about the course he wanted to take. He even figured Jim was smart enough to half ass the answer and tell him what he wanted to hear: Spock was his life. When he did neither of these things he concluded that Jim was far too independent to really understand what a bond meant to a Vulcan. If he was too independent, how was he to fully provide what Spock needed? Even he, Sarek, relied on Amanda and she relied on him. Jim was not proving himself well. Spock could be asking for help, would Jim drop everything for him?

He stood. “Amanda, I believe it is time to take our leave. I have a full schedule tomorrow.” Sarek glanced at Spock as the two left the restaurant.

Spock sighed, relieved the dinner wasn’t a complete disaster, he turned to Jim.

“You want to be a Starship captain?”

Jim wasn’t questioning it anymore. He solidified his stance. “Yeah. I do.”

“Sarek, you didn’t have to interrogate the boy.” Amanda frowned. “So what, Spock has a boyfriend. You’re acting like he’s a suitor, like he’s intending to marry our son. I’m sure Vulcans can entertain companionship like humans do.”

“There is no companionship in the sense of human sexual partners, here. They are not temporarily connected. They are bonded, Amanda. As we are.” He looked down at her, a stern face he rarely gave her. Their fingers crossed.

“And he said nothing to us?” She paced around her husband. “And you waited until now to communicate this to me!?”

“It is a complex situation, my wife. In any case the two were in no condition to be on the other end of your maternal responses. I did not think it logical to subject them to an abundance of emotional distress.”

“Emotional distress?! You’re telling me our son went off and—and got married without telling us!? And you’re the one here saying they can’t handle my response to that? Then what the hell were You doing in there?”

Amanda started to return to the restaurant, but Sarek called her back to him. She complied out of respect. He explained what he learned to her. 

“Our son has made plenty of mistakes. He will mature. He will ultimately understand the severity of what he has done. I only wish he could have made a better choice with whom he accidentally bonded with.”

“He’s a sweet, sweet boy, Sarek.”

“And incapable of propagating our species.”

“Does that really need to be the only function of a relationship?”

“On Vulcan, yes it does.”

“Your dad hates me.”

“He doesn’t know what hate is.”

“But he knows what love is?”

He lied down on Spock’s bed, practically pleading for him to join. The Vulcan reluctantly sat down.

“Sarek can’t do anything about us. It seemed as though he was trying to gauge your character. I’m sure he will have a lot of damage control in the coming weeks.”

Jim hardly could focus on what Spock was saying. The heat in his body was intensifying. The creature he desired above everything was right before him. He was so close.

“Spock,” he breathed.

“He is a figurehead on Vulcan, Jim. I can’t control it.”

Jim groaned. “Spock.”

He pulled on Spock’s arm, finally cluing him in on his desire. The heat and urge was unlike anything he felt before. The unfamiliarity scared him.

“Please,” he begged. “I can’t. I need it.”

“Jim, we can’t.”

He sat up and started planting kisses on Spock’s neck. Jim was about to straddle Spock from behind when the Vulcan swiftly stood and pushed Jim back down to the bed. He pulled out the kerchief from his breast pocket and placed it over Jim’s mouth. Spock climbed on top of Jim, making sure both of their groins made no contact. He kissed him. The fabric barrier voided any kind of pleasure. Spock looked just as desperate.

“Do you really think I would risk us both right now,” he whispered. He face lingering just above Jim’s. “The last thing I ever wanted to happen to you is happening. I am not mature enough to carry us through. You are not a telepath! Anything, Jim. Any. Thing. That keeps Plak Tow, the Blood Fever, from initiating is what we must, must! endure.”

The tears fell to Jim’s face and collected with his own. He knew. He knew how much danger they were in, he could feel it. But it couldn’t stop the raging fire that was slowly taking over.

Jim grasped Spock’s head and pressed his mouth to his own. The fabric still there. If Spock had to hold his hands wearing gloves, then he could afford to kiss him through a mask.

It wasn’t what either of them expected. They were used to their auras swarming together, mingling and coalescing. Tonight it was cold, rigid. Only the motions they could afford. Their passion, what was so desperately needed built up within one another. They locked it in, they kept it separate.

“Jim. Go home.”

Spock lied next to Jim. He couldn’t bear looking at the human any longer. It was painful seeing him cry.

Jim didn’t move.

Spock would apologize. He never intended to yell as he did. He would apologize. But not tonight.

“I said. GO HOME!”

Jim obeyed.

He waited for the door to close. There was an option he could take. It was a chance, but it might prove useful. Under one of the support beams of his coffee table there was a hidden drawer. He pulled it open revealing the vials of opium he had produced. The tea’s effects no longer worked, but perhaps this form would induce what he needed.

It wasn’t a pleasant taste, but the high came quickly. There was no more rage, or fire in his belly. Only joy. Pure pleasant calming joy.

“What have you observed?”

Sarek met McCoy outside the hotel he was staying in. The streets were quiet that night. The two were the only ones out on the sidewalk.

“I really don’t like the look of it. Spock’s been repressing his emotions lately, not the best thing I've found to do during Pon Farr. Jim…Jim I’m a bit more concerned.”

“Concern?”

“I think he’s picking up on Spock’s—How many days can Pon Farr last? I know this situation is a lot different, but I don’t think Jim can last.”

“It should only be allowed to last for eight days. You are correct, in assuming that their particular situation may differentiate from that window. What Spock should have been going through, a mere diminished form, it endures. Not quite as long as human puberty, but it lasts for months.”

McCoy nodded. “That’s in line with what’s happening. For Jim, I think he will only experience the tail end of it. He’s fidgeting. He’s trying to keep his mind busy.”

“Then I will have to debrief my delegation. For the two, a trip to Vulcan must happen. Either tomorrow or the day after. I cannot let that journey happen alone either. I’ll have to accompany them.” Sarek was about to take his leave, but he stopped short of the hotel’s entrance. “I hope you enjoyed the top shelf gin.”

“Oh, it was magnificent Mr. Sarek. I am appreciative of your kindness.” McCoy noticed Sarek’s response: a finger rising, to correct the doctor. "Even if it is illogical.”

Jim walked into the full conference hall where species of all kinds were mingling. It was before the keynote speech, where everyone was encouraged to meet those they’d be sharing ideas with. The mood was jolly, it was exactly what Jim wanted.

He picked Bones out in the crowd, he was handing out mimosas. “A human treat! An excuse to get drunk in the morning!”

Jim noticed the new notches on his collar.

“Is this what you do with your new rank?”

Bones laughed and handed him a mimosa. “Of course not. This is work.”

“You playing bartender is work?”

He nodded. “Yes!”

Bones couldn’t tell Jim he was there in an official capacity as sanctioned by the ambassador to Vulcan. So he had to play up the bedside manner of his job. It proved worthwhile, as many different species inquired about Starfleet’s medical facilities. It was good enough for him.

He really couldn’t tell Jim about a mysterious text he got from Spock late last night either. It was a single word: Happy.

Jim handed off the mimosa. He felt far too nauseous. “Do you know where Nyota is?”

“Hmmm, I haven’t seen her. Probably just floating around. Why don’t you do the same? You helped put this shit together, enjoy it!”

All around Jim was a flurry of activity. He didn’t know where to begin. Should he ask people how they were doing? Direct them to refreshments? Should he ask what their expectations were? There were many directions he could go in. Ultimately he decided to mingle. He never got much of a chance to explore how different species speak to each other.

Bones knew something was up, as Jim had never turned down a mimosa before, but he didn’t have a clear cut reason why. It wasn’t until he caught Spock entering the hall with the rest of the Vulcan delegation that he understood.

Spock was not sober.

Normally, Spock was a very fluid walker. His step made it look like he was floating on air. This morning, his gate was irregular, he had bumped into another patron. Bones halted his mimosa service and grabbed another vantage point.

“Last night was the precursor to the shit show then.”

Jim found himself learning Trillian sign language. He motioned with his fingers and hands, finding it a therapeutic experience.

“Did I do it right?”

The Trill laughed. He was taking the attempt in stride, learning human sign language was slightly difficult for him as well.

“Not quite.”

“What did I say? Oh god if I insulted you!”

“No insult!” He repeated the motions with his fingers. “You’re just a little too rigid. Loosen up. If you don’t relax, then everything you say is very demanding and considered rude. Almost like having a superiority complex.”

So he tried the motions again, focusing on staying relaxed.

“Ah, there it is.” The Trill smiled. “I am quite pleased to meet you as well, Cadet Kirk.”

“Er, what’s your full name again?”

“Dax. Just call me Dax.” He smiled.

The Vulcan delegation passed by, the two of them bowed. Dax nodded, having met many times with Sarek over the years. The Vulcan nodded in return. 

Sarek pretended to take no notice of Jim, but he was carefully noting everything about him, the slight paleness, the look of sleeplessness. Sarek could conclude Jim was starting to impart on Spock’s Pon Farr.

Jim tried not to let his ego get bruised. It wasn’t like he spent all last evening being judged by the ambassador, only to be snubbed by him at an event Jim worked on.

_Sarek is one petty piece of shit. Emotionless my fucking ass._

“Now, I know they don’t really show it, but Sarek did not look pleased to see you.”

“Sarek and I have,” he frowned trying not to reveal too much. “We didn’t meet under the best circumstances.”

“No one ever meets Sarek under the best circumstances. I promise you that.”

Jim looked at every Vulcan who passed by. They should have all looked the same to him, a human, but every one of them had a certain personality. He wondered if it was Jim’s projection based on their choice in robes, or if it was because Spock knew who they were personally. Spock passed by him last. They made eye contact the longest. It hurt more to see Spock in full Vulcan regalia. A rare sight to see from everyone. For Jim it made his allure even stronger. Through their bond there was distant longing. Jim wanted it to last like a scene from a sappy romance movie. Unfortunately their bond was distorted, it didn’t feel normal, it was definitely what was making Jim feel sick all morning.

Dax smiled, he watched intently at the exchange. “I get it now.”

His comment ripped Jim away from Spock.

“It’s complicated.” Jim cleared his throat. “Uh, excuse me.”

“Oh I bet.” Dax murmured as he watched the young cadet catch up to the ambassador’s son.

“Has your dad said anything,” Jim whispered.

Spock continued to look forward. “No.”

“Nothing?”

“Jim, I’m not in the mood for whispers.”

He veered off from the delegation and Jim. Nothing else said.

Jim stopped walking. He watched Spock disappear into the crowd. He nodded a few times while being spoken too, but that was the most he communicated.

_What is going on with you?_

“Would you look at that he finally did it,” Nyota murmured.

“Did what?”

She wrapped an arm around Jim leaning on him, “he finally gave in and wore Vulcan attire to a Starfleet function.”

“Does he not normally?”

“The last time a Vulcan delegation came he refused to come out of his apartment.” She laughed. “How was dinner by the way?”

“Decent,” he lied.

She lead Jim around the hall. He was thankful for her distraction. It couldn’t completely take the nausea away, but it was a start. They caught up with other members of the committee asking if they needed help.

The two ended up setting up the stage for the keynote speech.

“That dinner was with his parents.”

“Holy shit.”

“It sucked, Ny.” He handed Nyota a few tools. “I spent 2 hours getting fucking interviewed by Sarek. Everything I said seemed like it wasn’t good enough for him, like I was some low life dead beat trash.”

Nyota smirked, “I thought you were some low life dead beat trash.”

“Okay, you know what—“

“I was right, farm boy” She laughed.

“Oh fuck off!”

They both laughed, knowing they were teasing each other for fun. It was part of their acquaintanceship: Sassing each other, pushing boundaries, seeing what really made them pissed off. They thrived on it.

Jim was about to help Nyota move the podium to the stage when he caught sight of Spock. It was curious. The Vulcan was facing the wall, a full smile on his face.

“Hey uh, I gotta check on something. You’ll be okay here?”

Nyota shrugged, “sure?”

Jim jumped off the stage and meandered through the crowd. He avoided bumping into groups of people while he tried to keep his eyes on Spock, ducking and dipping, dodging and sliding through conversations. Multiple apologies were given.

He grasped Spock on the shoulder. “Had enough of people?”

“Jim!”

Spock linked arms with Jim. “You should listen to this man, he’s hilarious!”

“What?” Jim looked around, furrowing his brows. He was incredibly confused. Spock was standing in a secluded spot in the hall. There weren’t many people around him.

“There’s no one here?”

“Huh, there isn’t.” He pulled Jim into a walk. “Unfortunate, he really was funny.”

“Who?”

“The man who wasn’t there.”

Jim pulled Spock over to an empty table. Sarek was near, Jim couldn’t handle both him and Spock, especially when Spock wasn’t making sense. One moment calm and distant, now he was hallucinating.

“Spock, hey, look at me.”

He wasn’t focusing on anything. His eyes darted around, overall he was fidgety. Jim held Spock’s jaw, keeping him from moving. He took a cue from Bones and looked at his pupils. They were dilated. How did he not notice when during their first encounter?

_Am I this fucking blinded by, whatever the fuck this Pon Farr shit is? I can’t even see through the longing to check on my boyfriend?_

“Are you high?”

Jim’s question was answered with laughter.

“You’re fucking high!”

Spock continued smiling. “Yeah! Oh Jim, if you could really feel it right now. Such a happiness has overcome me.”

Jim let go and sat him down. “Spock, I don’t fucking care what you do on your off time, but you fucking showed up to MY event fucking high off your ass?! Your dad is right over there!”

The table was so cool and pleasant to Spock’s touch. He leaned forward resting his cheek on the surface. “For once I don’t give one fucking shit about my dad and for once it’s not because I am Vulcan.”

Spock started tracing random figures on the table with his finger. He was amusing himself with the lofty spinning world that surrounded him. He was going to continue on about how he didn’t care about Sarek’s presence, but mid-thought he forgot what he was going to say.

“Jim,” he raised his head and blushed, “did you know?”

He rolled his eyes. All Jim could do at this point was keep Spock out of sight and humor him. “Do I know what?”

“That you, and meeeee, arrrrre,” smiled and laughed, continuing in his sing-song voice, “teeeeeeee — hyyy-laH!”

Spock fell off his chair and lied flat on his back. He was still smiling, completely unaffected.

“I swear to god,” Jim muttered. He grabbed Spock by the collar of his robe, pulling him up to his feet.

An Andorian woman approached the two, wearing formal attire. She was followed by an entourage of 4 men.

“Is everything alright here?”

Jim blushed, straightening himself and Spock, trying to stand as straight as possible. He gave the Andorian a proper salute, he even held up Spock’s arm so he could give her a salute as well.

“Madame President, yes of course! I just think my Vulcan friend here accidentally ingested some chocolate.”

“Ah, yes it happens to the best of us.” She had to laugh at the gesture. At least the cadets were trying. She wasn’t lying, many of her days spent in military encampments meant experimenting and trying not so regulated items. She couldn’t be mad at the behavior. The attempted salute was a show of respect regardless.

“It wasn’t chocolate,” Spock interrupted, “it was poppy—“

“—seed muffins! Yeah I saw those as well! They had chocolate chips in them!” Jim linked arms with Spock yet again to keep the Vulcan from making more of a scene.

“Well, if anything there’s the medical staff here. In fact, I’m really grateful for this event. It feels like a fun party.” The president chuckled. “I don’t get to party very much any more. I suggest you enjoy it while you can, cadets.”

She saluted in return and took her leave.

“Why would you lie to the President of the United Federation of Planets?”

Jim cursed under his breath. He was getting red hot. “Because she is the President of the United Federation of Planets you fucking idiot!”

Unknown to Jim and Spock, Sarek witnessed the entire encounter. While he was communicating in a diplomatic sense, his only real reason to come to the keynote speech was to keep Spock in check and thus his own reputation intact. He would have loved nothing more than to leave after conferring with other delegations.

Unfortunately his son was not acting like a Vulcan, Starfleet officer, or as any decent member of society should.

“Is there any help I can acquire you two,” Sarek approached from behind. He told his own delegation he’d return shortly.

Jim looked over his shoulder, a deathly glare. He didn’t care who Sarek was, about his reputation, what he was in store for. All he cared about was getting Spock out so he wouldn’t ruin his event.

“I don’t need help from you,” he spat.

He pulled Spock through the hall, and through a side door.

Sarek placed his hands behind his back, he felt the same look Jim gave him creeping upon his face. If he didn’t know any better, he would have been insulted. Disrespected, yes he was. He was an ambassador after all, and he was according to Vulcan customs going to be Jim’s father. A son should never disrespect their father in such a way.

He slid over to Bones’ table, without giving any allusion that he was speaking to the doctor, he asked if there was anything he observed.

“Those two are in hot water. I’m more worried about Jim and he wasn’t the one rolling on the floor and flopping over a table. He’s getting it, isn’t he?”

“A very fascinating turn of events, isn’t it Doctor? A human imparting on an alien affliction.”

“You know there’s not much I can do for them.”

“Keep them alive.”

“Are you fucking insane!” Jim pushed Spock up against a wall. “I worked hard on this event and you come in with not a bit of sincerity!”

The room they were in was large, an annex to the conference hall. Unused at the moment, it was only a storage room for extra tables and chairs.

“Maybe I should have let you make a fucking idiot out of yourself in front of everyone. I have half a mind to put you on center stage!”

It was Spock’s smile that enraged Jim even more. He couldn’t tell if it was the nausea, the Pon Farr, or his stress that enraged him. He didn’t think he could get this mad at Spock, ever.

“Jim, I’m not terribly good at stand up.” He swayed.

Jim pushed him against the wall once more and ripped open his robe. He fumbled through the fabric, trying to find anything that would clue him in. All he could find was his Starfleet badge.

“You said poppy. What the fuck did you do!?”

“Poppy? Oh I haven’t seen her in a while. I think she got assigned…”

“Not Poppy, our classmate! Poppy seeds! Flowers! What the fuck did you do!?”

Jim was pressing Spock into the wall with his forearm braced across the Vulcan’s chest. There was no reason for it, Spock wasn’t going to run away, but there was an urge. Jim had a deep desire to show his dominance over Spock.

“Oh!” Laughter. “Jim, I tried opium. It’s great!”

It made Jim even angrier. Spock wasn’t showing any submission, and he wasn’t being serious about any of it. What did Jim have to do to get Spock to understand the severity of the situation?

“Opium!?!”

“Jim, It’s amazing. I’m happy. I no longer feel Pon Farr in my body. It is only elation.”

“It’s not gone you absolute stupid piece of—“ Jim grabbed Spock’s ears, he pressed his lips against his, shoving his tongue into the Vulcan’s mouth. He toyed with the tongue ring, he brushed his thumbs against the tips of his ears.

Spock slumped at the touch. The fire took over the light dancing tingle of the opium high. He was still high, no doubt, but the kiss and the ear stroking reminded him. The opium was only a mask.

He gripped Jim’s back, trying to press each other closer together. No matter how hard he pressed he couldn’t seem to get close enough. Spock pulled away just enough to breathe.

“You look horrible.”

“Thanks! I feel it too.” Jim kissed him again, Spock laughing at the back of his throat. Jim could only angrily groan. “Shut up!”

Spock hid his face in the crook of Jim’s neck. “No you don’t understand. I love this feeling. All floaty and things sparkling and gleaming! And that was before you gave me a boner!”

The last word echoed, just as there was a door opening. “Nope I’m leaving bye!”

Jim looked over. Bones was turning to leave them alone. He didn’t need to witness this.

“BONES!” He forced Spock off of him, scrambling to get running at a fast enough pace. “Don’t leave!”

“Yeah Bones! Don’t leave! You’re not a tree!”

The two of them stared. Jim stopped running. He was absolutely appalled at Spock’s pun. It wouldn’t have been funny any other time, and now during a serious emergency, he was witnessing a Vulcan making terrible jokes. Spock was on the floor now, painting swirls on the surface with his finger. He liked this surface more than the table in the other room.

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” Bones pulled out his tricorder. He scanned both of them. “Anyone here want to update me on what the two of you dipshits are doing?”

“Opium!”

“No seriously, what are you guys doing?” Bones frowned as he read the scans’ results.

“No, pointy ear green boy is doing opium. I’m just trying not to fucking kill him!”

Jim was seething with anger. Every emotion flip flopped. Anger. Lust. Anger. Lust.

Bones sat Spock upright, he shined a light into his eyes and checked his reflexes. “The fuck did he get opium from?”

Jim shook his head. He slowly approached the two. The heated knot in his abdomen was growing. He had to be careful.

“It wasn’t hard. I synthesized it myself!” He swayed. “I have more. You can have some. It’s really great. But, I also might have made a mistake.”

“No shit,” Bones and Jim said in unison.

“Whoah, that was cool.”

“What do we do? He can’t stay here. He’ll fuck everything up!”

“Both of you can’t stay here,” Bones handed Jim the diagnostic results. “You two are off the charts. Whatever you’ve been doing is starting a cascade.”

“We just kissed.”

“Gee, making out couldn’t possibly trigger the final stages of a mating ritual!” Bones rubbed his eyes in frustration.

“Final stages?”

“There’s three,” Spock intervened. He was blinking rapidly, trying his hardest to keep focused. “We’re entering Plak Tow, where these rituals must take place.”

“You. You told me. You can’t carry us both through it! So you thought you’d be better, like—like this!?” The fire coursed through Jim’s body. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.He screamed and yelled. He smashed a chair against the wall. Jim ran towards Spock who scrambled to his feet. He was in no condition to try to defend himself, but he wanted it. The strange sexual desire to be slammed against a wall took over all rational thought.

“I fucking hate you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had a story in my mind where Spock ingests opium for years now (I don't know why I find this boy so appealing for drug use...oh my). And because 2020 is 2020, I ended going down a very strange rabbit hole where I learned a few things about the drug that will forever make it illegal for me to grow poppies (oops).
> 
> In any case, does Sarek know about memes?


	5. Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Spock have sex. That's it. That's the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it normal to think about a Vulcan's anatomy? I need to knoooow.

His head hurt. The pain sat in his sinuses, infiltrating his upper jaw. His vision blurred, but it was because he’d been asleep for what felt like days. The walls around him were unfamiliar. Not his room. Not Spock’s.

Jim groaned. He propped himself up on his elbows, trying to get a better gauge of his surroundings.

_Bulkheads? Ship? Or Space station?_

The pain in his head spiked. He flopped down, pulling the blankets over his eyes to hide the light.

“I can dim the lights more.”

That soft lyrical voice. Jim didn’t even notice Spock next to him. He whined and rolled onto his side.

“I take that as a ‘yes.’”

The room darkened. It was only light enough to keep one from tripping over furniture.

“Wha’ happened?”

Jim uncovered his face. He turned over to face Spock. He had been reading for quite some time, always at the ready to tend to Jim. It was a pleasant sight, knowing Spock was there for him, but Jim felt ashamed. Spock looked exhausted, of course he hadn’t slept. Jim knew he was in pain. The bruising ran from his collarbone to his jaw.

“What did I do to you?”

“About the same as I did to you.” He carefully ran his fingers through Jim’s hair. “Neither of us enjoy submitting. Or listening. Or speaking in normal voices rather than screaming. Which I suppose we can work out.”

Spock leaned down and softly kissed Jim along his neck. Each kiss he apologized. “You don’t remember. Quite literal blind rage?”

“The last I remembered I was yelling at you while you were gripping my arm so hard it felt like you were trying to break it. I think Bones tackled me at some point too.” Jim inspected his forearm, bruising consistent with a tight grip wrapped around it.

“He sedated you enough to calm down. I’ve been waiting since for you to come around.”

“How long was I out?”

“Asleep for 10 hours. We’ve been on this ship for 12.”

Jim sat up again. His vision was less blurry. It hurt less to keep his eyes open. The window before them revealed the expansive universe, stars flying by, unseen nebulae painting the endless inexistent horizon.

“And where are we headed?”

“Vulcan. Sarek has secured help for us.”

“And you? You finally sober? I think that’s what pissed me off in the first place. And then it just kept going.”

“I deserved every thing you said to me.” Spock pulled off his shirt. “I am functional. As far as Pon Farr will let me be, that is.”

Jim groaned at the word. “That weird feeling hasn’t left and it’s gotten worse.”

“I know. I need to teach you something. It will help.”

He held out his hands. Jim was thankful they were no longer gloved. It was nice seeing Spock looking more comfortable in his usual private attire. Always a plain t-shirt he’d throw off when it bothered him, black leggings or joggers. Jim was reminded of those first days when Spock finally started dressing down in from of him. A simple little happiness.

“Hold out your hands. Palms up.”

Jim did just that. Spock gently held Jim’s hands in his own. He lightly kissed his palms. He carefully bent Jim’s pinky and ring fingers.

“This is how it should have went. The intention to bond, it starts here. This is how the rituals in Pon Farr work. We build trust. We explore. We learn about our primal spirits. We decipher how we will adapt to each other’s needs. Since we have already bonded, this will solidify, strengthen it.”

Spock brushed his own middle and index fingers against Jim’s. He started carefully, slowly, letting his knuckles flow over Jim’s fingertips. Spock then repeated the process, this time finger prints against finger prints.

It was a luxurious feeling neither of them had ever felt. It was like a cold shower washing away the dirt and grime after a miles-long hike in the blazing sun. The rush of endorphins was refreshing. Jim was ecstatic that he was able to do the same for him.

Spock’s mind was entirely open, there were no mental blocks that Jim ran into. It was on par with a meld in only that their auras entangled, and that it was purely based in physical attraction. There was no cohesive thought; Jim could barely understand what was coursing through his consciousness. He just instinctively knew that Spock trusted him with his life.

The spark that they felt when they brushed hands couldn’t compare to the overflow of pleasure, emotion, and pure desire that flowed through their bodies now. It was instinctive for Jim to want to kiss Spock on the lips while they held hands, but this time the urge didn’t come. He was completely satisfied.

Spock pulled his hands away. His vision of Jim was wholly new. The human’s eyes shown more brilliantly than ever before, the slight color changes in the irises were like the beautiful sulfuric pools in Yellowstone. Everything he thought was beautiful in Jim was heightened. He was in the presence of an immortal being.

“We will do this more. When the heat and fire comes back.”

Spock was right, the heat and fire no longer gutted Jim. He felt insignificantly human. No special telepathic powers, or new insights. When he looked at Spock he saw Spock. Of course it made him sickly nervous staring at him, he always felt that way. But he thought he’d feel Spock’s aura more than previous.

“In the meantime?”

“Do as you please. I won’t stray far.”

He stood and stretched, something Jim always loved watching. No matter how much he learned about Spock, he never could forget how rigid a Vulcan could make themselves look. He figured he’d always be humanly curious by a Vulcan’s every move.

“I quite hastily packed you necessary items. Clothes and the like. I’m sure Leonard added some things as well.”

Jim crawled his way off the bed. He rummaged through his bag. He guessed everything he needed was packed away, but Jim was more curious about the hand written note left in one of the pockets.

**“Don’t ever get me involved in your sex life again.**

**-Love, Bones”**

“Spock?”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t hastily pack anything. These are all the clothes you’ve told me you liked.”

Spock only shrugged. He looked all about the room while Jim changed. “I didn’t realize I did such a thing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Well, if that’s how you respond to my caring for you, then I suppose you should stop objectifying me when I stretch after sitting for a while or when I practice yoga…”

Jim laughed. “Okay, you got me.”

He placed his hands on Spock’s chest, he traced the bruises along his collar bone. Jim could barely remember. He knew he was pressing him against the wall, screaming at him. He could barely remember Spock over him, eyes wild while he was nearly choking him. He knew it was the Pon Farr, but he just couldn’t believe it. Jim caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that was on the opposite wall where his bag was stored. He wasn’t in any better shape. It was no wonder his head hurt when he woke up, he had a lump on his forehead.

It didn’t occur to Jim that he and Spock might be combative. He figured based on their past experiences he’d be fine with submitting to Spock. There were no hints saying otherwise.

“I’m sorry,” Jim continued running his fingers over the bruises. “I didn’t mean—“

“You fully meant to do this to me.” Spock returned the favor, tracing over Jim’s bruises. “As I fully meant to do this to you.”

“You said neither of us wanted to submit. I’ve done it before. Why am I, why are we?” He frowned.

“Maybe it’s who we are. Pon Farr brings out the truest intentions. Even if you enjoy being submissive, you’re also the one who wants to command a starship.

“Yeah, okay. That makes sense. Then, what’s your excuse?”

Spock looked up, he was actually trying to find an answer. He could only give Jim a short laugh. “I don’t know.”

Jim decided he’d stay on the deck their room was on. He didn’t want to entirely rip himself away from Spock’s presence. It was a strange period of time for him. He and Spock were still in the middle of a truly complicated mating ritual (at least by his standards), yet he was able to have periods where he lived like nothing was happening to him. It was strange walking through the hallways, where Vulcans were walking to their own destinations. They saw him, a human, as a curiosity. But Jim was paranoid. Did they know why he was there?

While Spock meditated, Jim went to the observation lounge to read. The room was only used if the ship crossed paths with something worthy of studying. It was barely used. He was thankful for Bones. He added a few books to his bag. One of them was an old favorite of the Doctor’s, The Idiot.

Everything short of the ending, Jim felt a connection to the main character. He was the idiot in this situation. The idiot on a Vulcan ship. The idiot in his relationship. The idiot in a family that he accidentally became a part of. Yet like the idiot in the book, he wasn’t incompetent, he wasn’t stupid or insignificant. He was purely human and inexperienced.

Jim put the book down and stared out the window. He had never been this far in space, at least cognitively. He was born out in this expanse, and for once he felt like he was home.

“I see you are taking some time for yourself. May I interrupt?”

Sarek’s voice terrified Jim. He scrambled to stand as fast as he could to bow to him, but the Vulcan placed his hand out. Sarek even bent down himself to pick up the book that fell from Jim’s lap onto the floor. He inspected the novel, an intriguing concept. The humans from Russia were always filled with more existential crises than he could bear, but he was rather fascinated at Jim’s choice.

“Please, do not bother with formalities,” Sarek handed the book to Jim. “I do not expect you to adhere to them while in private.”

“Sir?” Jim carefully grabbed the book, scared it could be a trick.

“James, regarding our past interactions—“

“I’m not apologizing.” Jim was initially going to try and be kind to Sarek. He was after all stuck on a ship with him. But the thought of that dinner started to make him angry.

Sarek studied Jim. His face was stone-like. Set in defiance. He knew Jim would be a difficult human to get to know. The issue was already a sore spot between him and Amanda. It was in fact Amanda who demanded Sarek make his intentions clear with Jim.

“I do not want an apology. I have no need for one.”

“Great, cause I won’t give you one.”

“I do want some respect, though. While I know it is the human custom for one to earn it, I do think it is logical for some base level of respect between us.”

“Well, if you show me some respect then maybe I will return it. You haven’t shown me that base level.” Jim set the book on the chair. “Sarek, I admit I’ve not been the kindest towards you. I can’t use this Pon Farr as a total excuse for it. But then again, I’m going through something that’s not really in the manual for human experiences. I’m told that I bonded with my boyfriend. I figured, ‘oh okay, we’re just really close.’ But then I learn that being bonded is synonymous with marriage on Vulcan. I married my boyfriend without even knowing it, then I have to meet his parents and—“

Sarek held up his hand. Jim had to admit he was amazed how the Vulcan could command without speaking.

“It is quite tasking for a human. My wife has alerted me that I should have been,” he tilted his head, “more accommodating. My ulterior motives did not afford you that. Let me explain myself.”

Jim sighed. “Then go for it.”

“I am protective of my status. I am protective of my family. It is important that their needs are taken care of, so they can excel in their own endeavors. I will not hide my disapproval when they go against what I see is the most logical course. I still think Spock would benefit more outside of Starfleet. Yet he is an officer and I will respect what that title holds for him. As the head of my family, when I learn about Spock’s illogical choices I investigate them. To find a human no-name cadet had created a bond with my son, I wanted to investigate. Why would my son make this choice over others? I had to fall back on what I needed to do as a father. I determined your character, I determined Spock’s and your motives. I do have the right to know who exactly is entering my family.”

“Yeah? So you did what you did.” Jim folded his arms. He knew the spiel. He knew exactly what Sarek was up to. Jim himself would probably do the same thing. Why would anyone trust a stranger with their child?

“Here’s what bothers me. Everything is rooted in logic for you. I get it. But it doesn’t translate well. To me? To a human? The way you threw all those questions at me, when I knew full well how much you don’t like me, felt awful. And since you apparently don’t know what that’s like, then consider a black hole. No matter what you can’t wrap your head around it, there’s no logic, all the physics just break down. It’s tedious and frustrating because there aren’t answers. All of discombobulated math is how you’re making me feel. Did you really need to keep pressing your standards on me even though having yet another human in your family is ultimately unacceptable and your opinion on the matter won’t change? Why is Spock’s relationship with me illogical when you chose your own human to marry? Did you really think that I’d respect you, when you don’t respect my existence, that maybe I am more than just some no-name cadet? What? Do you secretly think I persuaded Spock into this? That I don’t actually love him?

“I’ll admit it. I pestered Spock over and over about mind melds. I’m human. I’m curious. I had no fucking idea about bonds and why you probably shouldn’t be melding with some Vulcan while trying to have sex with them. I never once forced Spock to do anything he didn’t want to because I respected the fact that he was sexually inexperienced. And don’t give me that repulsive look, you still have those primal urges too.”

Jim grabbed his book. He could feel the heat returning again.

“One more thing, you have no idea if our relationship would have naturally matured to this point anyways. Don’t worry, I know you’d still disapprove of me. I can’t further your family line. Maybe just accept the fact that your son made a mistake that had real consequences. And maybe accept the fact that mistake might be the best thing to happen for him because he can finally express himself. This is all about Spock and I, stop selfishly fucking being concerned for your own status. Spock isn’t and was never a model Vulcan citizen, you just need to accept that.”

Sarek did not believe Jim was capable to provide a defense of their relationship as he just made. There were few authorities above Sarek’s status professionally, so he rarely did what he did as Jim stormed out of the room: He bowed low, head to the knees.

“How long will this last?”

Jim and Spock were in an air lock. They turned off the gravity controls and floated. Their fingers hooked together.

“I am trying to prolong this stage. When we get to Vulcan we will meet with a mediator.”

“So like, a sex therapist?”

The phrase made Spock so uncomfortable Jim had to apologize.

“She will enable you to carry on without harm. Er…mentally. As we’ve already seen with the bruises…”

“You expect it to get worse?”

“You don’t?”

Jim started to brush his fingers over Spock’s. “Fair point. I guess I’ll apologize now, while this is still ever so delicate.”

They relished in the comfort they gave each other during their time together. They knew this wouldn’t last for much longer. Vulcan was 29 hours away. With every hour that passed, Jim grew more nervous. It kept creeping into his mind how much danger they both were in.

“What are the next stages?”

“It’s a series of mind melds. In slightly different variations. And uh, obviously sex.”

“Slightly different melds?”

“I—I don’t quite know.” Spock blushed. “It’s instinctual.”

“I just want you to know, I trust you. I know this is so fucking foreign and I’m right there with you being terrified.”

Spock heightened the gravity so the two could leave. But he wanted to give Jim a kiss before he had to stoically walk the halls of the ship without showing anything for whom he loved.

“Scared, is not an emotion I’m entirely familiar with. So experiencing it is,” he shrugged, “scary. And I want nothing more than to connect with you on that level again.”

Jim perfected Spock’s hair, placing every strand in its precise place. “Yeah, this isn’t doing much anymore. While it’s nice, I’m starting to feel it again. I crave it. I want you.”

“I wish I could continue this. If we weren’t so mentally incapable…”

“29 hours.”

“28.43 hours.”

A dry easterly wind hit them both as they stepped onto the property. It stirred up the atmosphere but provided little relief to Jim. He likened it to midsummer in Australia. Dry. The sun unrelenting. But at least it wasn’t humid.

Jim thought they were going to end up in Sarek and Amanda’s home, a summer antithesis to their Christmas stay in Iowa. Spock led him to a different property settled on hot springs, there was less desert and more vegetation, albeit not by much.

The change in scenery was the distraction Jim needed. By the end of their trip, Jim was coming down with a real fever. Spock had been able to get a few minutes away from Jim to plan out what he wanted and let Sarek know. Spock too was feeling the fever. He was tired, too tired to keep building up walls in his mind and pushing Jim off of him.

The conversation Spock had with Sarek was fleeting. His distractions and fever made it hard for Spock to focus. They agreed though on many of Spock’s requests. No large marriage ceremony, they could save that for later, no extravagance. Sarek agreed to let them be alone, in a place Spock held close to his memories. A small cabin shrouded in secrecy and books. Spock spent many days as a child retreating to the property, studying, escaping Vulcan itself. The elder Vulcan saw it logical to find a place of familiarity.

“It’s so weird to see the sky look like smoke, but breathe so freely,” Jim took in a deep breath. “The air is thin, but it’s like being on a mountain.”

The distraction could only last a moment. Jim laced his fingers with Spock’s.

“Soon, my sweet. Soon.” Spock murmured. He gripped Jim’s hand tightly for assurance. It wasn’t just to assure Jim, he was doing it for himself.

They approached the small cabin. A Vulcan female stood at the front door. She held a small gong that hung from an intricately sculpted handle.

**_Ding_ **

“You are the Vulcan, Spock?”

“Correct.”

**_Ding_ **

“You are the Human, Kirk?”

“Y-yes.”

**_Ding_ **

“Follow.”

**_Ding_ **

She strode into the gardens that lied beside the cabin, cacti were flowering, the orchids swayed with the winds. The paths meandered in and out of sight from all the plants that lined them; a Vulcan Versailles. The Vulcan stopped and raised her hands. She turned around facing the two again.

“I am you mediator, T’Pau. To bond you in marriage, to serve as your guide. Are there any challenges to this joining?”

“No,” Spock answered with an even and low voice.

**_Ding_ **

“The human will take the hand of the Vulcan.”

Jim did as they practiced on the ship. He brought his middle and index fingers to Spock’s. He hadn’t the faintest idea what he was doing. It was the fire and heat in his body that took over. Jim rose his hand with Spock’s, presenting the physical representation of their bond to T’Pau. It was odd, no auras this time, it was only a routine.

**_Ding_ **

“You will initiate the intention to join. Become one, let the katras alight.”

They brushed their fingers together, more delicately than they had been. They were slow, trying to impress upon each other their wants and needs, why they wanted to be joined so badly. Jim clasped Spock’s hand in the faintest grip, while grazing the Vulcan’s meld points with the other. He was of course unable to connect, but it didn’t matter. Spock would do the same soon, they would finally meld once more.

**_Ding_ **

“Will the human Kirk, allow the mediator T’Pau to enter his mind as a protector and healer?”

“I permit.”

“Will the Vulcan Spock, allow my entrance upon his bond mate as a protector and healer?”

“I permit.”

T’Pau was quick. Her years afforded her near instant access to weak minds. The quick press of her hand to Jim’s head nearly knocked him off his feet. She entered his mind as he let her, only to protect him and give his brain the strength to forge synapses unknown to humans.

“I lay witness to your bonding and to your marriage. The katras will intertwine and become synonymous. Under the eyes of the Vulcan ancestors before you, you will share in the most sacred of experiences.”

**_Ding_ **

Spock rose his hand where he initiated a meld. The consent, was instantaneous. Jim’s aura rushed Spock’s. They clashed for a moment; the sweet honey-like glow vs. the smoldering ash. As their brain’s synapses weaved together, their auras coalesced. There wasn’t a Jim. There wasn’t a Spock. They were inseparable.

_“How is this not enough? How is not being with you on every level not enough!?”_

Jim winced. His hand still raised to Spock’s head, his other gripped Spock’s arm.

_“This is the true bonding meld. Forging everything. Purely every little thing. What we’ve done in the past is strengthening. This here is how our bond will truly withstand anything, my sweet. Plak Tow, no, Pon Farr will always test it.”_

T’Pau pulled the two apart. Jim gasped at the shock of the sudden release.

Her stern face looked at them both.

“You have solidified the bonds to endure Plak Tow as one.”

**_Ding_ **

T’Pau left the two as they stood. It would be her duty to keep watch over Jim. She would tend to him at any sign of trouble, knowing Jim would be expected to come close to death.

Sarek appealed to T’Pau especially because of her strength and combative disposition. Jim was much like T’Pau in many respects, Sarek concluded. He needed a compatible mediator to handle Jim’s high-strong spirit.

“How does this work?” Jim gasped. He felt the sweat dripping down his forehead. “Spock?” The grip on Spock's arms were increasing. Inside Jim’s body that fire raged. He was desperate for Spock’s touch. Any way to be as close as he could, he wanted.

His eyes darkened. All of Spock’s features became less fixed. He was no longer worried about putting up a farce. He couldn’t hold back the fire in his own body screaming to be let out.

“Trust me?”

“Yes.”

Spock pulled Jim inside the building. He grabbed the human by the wrists, forcing themselves to the nearest piece of furniture.Spock splayed Kirk on top of the coffee table, he thoroughly enjoyed seeing Jim look so vulnerable.

It was to be expected, Jim had no intentions to be controlled. He pushed his way back up to Spock, forcing his mouth on the Vulcan’s. The guttural groan surprised and aroused Jim, so he continued.

All he wanted was to be flush against Spock. He wanted every part of his body pressed against that soft dewy skin. Jim couldn’t manage to think about how to remove Spock’s clothes, he just seemed to grab at them.

“You’re too eager.” Spock teased.

“Fuck you,” he seethed.

“You’re taking too long to do that, my sweet.”

Jim lunged at Spock. His turn to hold him down. They fell to the floor, a loud thud and rattles of knick knacks disturbed the quiet room as Spock’s back hit the hardwood floor. The fire enveloped them both, wrapping around their limbs, blurring their vision and muffling the sound. It was only them now, their surroundings didn’t matter. Jim threw off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants. He needed to get out of these restricting clothes. However the instinct to meld was too great.

He pressed his hands on Spock’s face, trying to initiate a meld. Jim kept calling for Spock, but nothing happened. He cried for the familiarity of Spock’s presence.

“Spock! Please!” A cry of desperation.

The Vulcan reached his hands up to Jim’s head where finally the two minds touched once more.

“We will never meld like this again. A marriage meld. A… ”honeymoon” meld. To put it in an English colloquialism.”

Despite their first sexualized mind meld, the one where the bond was created, Spock was entirely right. Jim never felt this complete in life. His senses expanded to Spock’s. Jim felt himself through Spock, while the converse was the same. Jim took in the moment where the desire stopped raging.

“I wish I could stay like this forever.” Jim breathed. He finally felt at peace.

“A trick of the Plak Tow. Jim, come back to me.”

He didn’t realize he was drifting off, falling into a deathly trap set up by the blood fever. How could he let go of Spock’s mind? He was right there with him, how did Spock not want to stay here either?

Jim stared into Spock’s eyes. They were crazed, wide, probing. His hair was drenched in sweat, he was panting.

“Trust me,” Spock pleaded. “Let go and trust me.”

They let go of their faces at the same time. Jim thought the meld would come to an end, but Spock was still there. No wonder why they won’t meld like this again, there was no need.

“Trust me,” Spock continued to plead. It was up to him to carry most of Jim’s katra through, and he could feel it flickering. He hoped T’Pau’s interference made a difference. “This is not the time to repress.”

Jim repeated the words as Spock kept uttering them. “Trust me. Trust me. Trust me!”

“I-I trust you.” Jim let go of the fear, the uncertainty of the situation. The fire gutted him, this time it was pain unknowable to a human. He screamed as it flowed, concentrating at its origin.

The pain was so debilitating, Jim lost all his physical strength. His weakness translated into yearning, fighting for Spock’s affection. Jim collapsed onto Spock, he didn’t think he could go any longer.

Spock carefully maneuvered Jim off his body, feeling strained himself. He didn’t think a meld could tire him as much as it did. The Vulcan had to take what little mental control he had left to stop himself from killing Jim. His human body could only go so far and knowing that fact pained Spock even more. This wasn’t even the worst part of the ritual.

“T’hy’la, you’re still not trusting me as much as you should. I can’t handle any barriers from you.” He caressed Jim’s head, kissing him softly.

_Please_

Jim cried into the kiss. He grasped for Spock’s touch. Of course he trusted Spock. He was the one being in the universe that he trusted without question. But Spock picked up on Jim’s last human barrier, his fear of death. Jim, the human, was not afraid to die. He reasoned with himself many nights over this fact. Countless birthdays where he was expected by society to celebrate, he had to accept that what afforded him life.

But the human, the instinctual primal creature whose name was James Kirk, still feared death above everything else. It was their last barrier, a barrier that could kill him.

“I need everything from you,” Spock whispered. “Even your fears.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Jim’s breath hitched.

“Never.” Spock pulled Jim into his lap, holding his hand. “You won’t lose me. I’ll never leave. I know you feel it within every aching bone in your body. I won’t leave you.”

He tracked their hands down Jim’s chest, down his abdomen and into his pants. Spock felt the elation rush through Jim’s body. “But, we’re running out of time. We don’t have it.”

It broke the final barrier. All of Jim’s fears crashed into Spock. The tears ran down the Vulcan’s cheeks, the multifaceted human was his. Jim was finally his.

With the barrier no longer there, it allowed T’Pau’s protection to take hold. Jim could feel the strength building, his countenance returning. He was still gripped by the fever, he had to get out of these clothes, he had to get Spock beneath him once more.

All he wanted was to see Spock’s vulnerability again.

“We should move somewhere safer.” Spock breathed. He got the desire from Jim, removing the clothes that he had tried ripping off previously.

To see Spock once more completely naked in from of him, drove the passion and desire deeper. No one else in the universe could have given him an erection on sight. But it wasn’t just sight, Jim remembered, it was the all-encompassing aura that kicked off his synapses.

“No,” Jim growled. He finally got his pants and underwear off. He loved feeling how Spock felt about him. It did not help Jim’s already unnecessarily large ego. “I am already at risk dying because of you, and you want to go somewhere safer.”

The anger was back. The lustful rage was on the verge of taking Jim’s entire mind once again. This time he was glad he didn’t have to stop short. He could finally claim his domain.

Spock could have shut down Jim’s response, yet the sarcasm that bled through Jim’s teeth sparked an idea, rather an illogical fear. Maybe their mating would always be spiteful, full of hate, full of regret. Their bond forged by mistake; their first time having sex was forced. Maybe even after the Pon Farr, their urges would always bring up this feeling.

Instead of recoiling from the revelation, Spock pressed Jim. He’d weaponize it. Humans were right in the ways of love, it wasn’t logical. Maybe Jim’s hate was just that, a different form of pure love. Their bond confirmed it, there was nothing but pure adoration for him coming from Jim, but it intermixed with “how could you do this to me?”

Spock initiated his plan. He came for Jim, grabbing the human by the throat. He had to be convincing, so he let himself give into his anger. Yes he was mad too, he wanted nothing but this to be over with. He wanted his Jim back. He wanted the soft eyes, not the ones that blamed him.

“You begged!” He shouted. Spock threw him against the wall. “Why can’t you ever be satisfied with what you have!”

Jim gripped Spock’s hair in his fists, he truly wanted to pull it all out. How dare he accuse him and bring his polyamory into this? Spock said he understood and respected him, this sounded nothing like it.

“You don’t even know what satisfaction is!”

_Brilliant response, Jim._

Every muscle tightened. Jim pressed his mouth against Spock’s. No need for hands, their auras sparked. His anger was so forthcoming though, he bit into Spock’s lower lip, breaking skin.

_Dont. Push. It._

Jim wasn’t intending for the bite to be playful. He really wanted to cause pain. He wanted nothing more than for Spock to feel all the hell he’d felt when he was in the dark about Pon Farr. For all those times Spock didn’t reciprocate Jim’s advances, he wanted to cause him real physical pain. He clamped down on Spock’s lip, rushing them both towards the wall once more. At least Spock could handle this, his head smacking against the surface. It hurt, it throttled his brain inside his skull, but he could handle it, even if it felt like the battering between their two jaws cracked some teeth.

Spock grabbed hold of Jim’s ass, pressing Jim flush against his body. Their engorged penises rose up against their abdomens. The primal desire was pressing down like a heavy atmosphere.

He pulled his head away once he was able to lift Jim off his feet. The Vulcan spat blood in Jim’s face. He managed to speak, the last words they’d speak physically for days.

“Then try satisfying me, you pathetic. Weak. Human.”

Jim had fornicated with various species. He never cared. If it was pleasurable, it was pleasurable. It was normally a state of ecstasy. There were normally words of gratitude, sweet nothings, “I love you”s. He’d prepare his partners and they’d prepare him. They’d clean each other, even if it was a one night fling; a sign of respect.

Here on Vulcan in the midst of Plak Tow, none of that existed. There was no pleasantries. The two were covered in each other’s sweat and blood, they picked up the dust and dirt from the floor of a cabin that had been empty since Spock left for Earth.

Jim struggled when he was thrown over the armrest of the leather couch. He was perfectly propped up for Spock. He tried to get up, but Spock grabbed his hands, he laced their fingers together gripping with most of his strength. Jim was unable to move, he was pressed firmly against the surface with his arms pinned overhead.

Part of Jim waited, waited for a warning but there wasn’t any. It was Plak Tow. That should have been warning enough.

He screamed in pain at the forceful entry into his anus. The heat flooded everywhere now, there was no telling where Jim ended and Spock began. Jim jerked up as much as he could, his own dick rubbing up against Spock. He cried as the alien forged on.

There wasn’t any more anger that coursed through Jim. It was regret. It was pain and hunger for it all to be over with. All he could see before him was an alien’s lustful eyes. Those eyes that were once so deep and mysterious. Jim couldn’t find Spock in these eyes. Had all those days, just trying to get him to kiss, to masturbate, to play with him, all mistakes?

Spock hadn’t even grazed Jim’s prostate. Yet the human was on the verge of orgasming. Jim wished he could make use of his hands, holding on this long without cumming was painful.

_Stop holding out on me!_

He didn’t mean to hold out on Jim. He really didn’t. Their different physiologies had to compensate somehow. If Spock could have warned Jim he would have. The secrecies of the Pon Farr rituals plagued them both. If he knew. If he knew his Vulcan body was trying to rip Jim into shreds merely just trying to accomplish what his instincts told him to do, he wouldn’t have let it get this far. If he knew how alien his own body truly was.

They had to make sure never to endure Plak Tow again.

It was a blinding white hot light. Jim had never felt a combination of pain and pleasure as Spock forced on him. Funny to think Spock, an alien, would have a normal sexual organ. Funny to think that despite being an alien humanoid species, sex would ultimately be the same.

Spock’s penis held vine-like appendages. They crawled their way further into Jim’s body, their harpoon tips latched on while others wrapped eagerly around Jim’s prostate.

Every sense Jim retained was gone. The orgasm was shredding and ripping through Jim’s very core. Jim thought a meld could only be initiated through hands. What initiated here was too incomprehensible for Jim. It poured through his brain like a storm surge breaking levies; the source coming from the inside. He felt Spock cumming in response to his own shrieking in joyous pain.

The white light led only to what Jim could perceive were the building blocks of all life, elements, stardust, atoms, elections, neutrons. His brain just could not decipher Spock’s meld.

Then all went black.

“Jim?”

He felt the warmth returning. It wasn’t the heat of Plak Tow. This was comforting.

“Jim, are you there?”

“Sleeping.”

There was a physical touch. A hand, brushing his forehead.

“I can’t check on you unless you wake up.”

He tried to shut his eyes even more.

“M’tired.”

“I know. Please, for a few minutes?”

Jim felt the very real worry now. His eyes shot open.

“Spock?”

“Hmm, you’re gifting me with using my name now.” Spock leaned in, he brushed his nose against Jim’s. His lower lip was still too mangled to initiate a kiss. Spock was also unsure if it was a logical course of action.

“Was I not?” He tried moving, but the pain in his lower back said otherwise. Jim would have to settle.

“You’ve been refusing to speak to me all day.” Spock sighed. “How are you?”

“You know.”

He did know. Spock no longer had to block himself off. For the first time since Christmas, the two’s bond was functioning as it should.

“I want to hear you say it. For me. For the logical reason that your health is still my top priority.”

Jim groaned. “I feel like I’ve been dismembered and then poorly put back together.”

“I can…empathize.”

“Help me sit up? Please?”

Spock complied. It was slow maneuvering. He fluffed up a bunch of pillows, and even folded up extra blankets for support. It wasn’t just Jim’s insides that hurt, Jim’s hands were broken.

He placed his mate’s hands carefully on a pillow that lied across his lap. They were bruised and slightly swollen. Spock had been icing them.

“I can’t believe you didn’t even realize how hard you were holding on.”

“I might have—“

“Much like how I really wanted to rip off your face.”

It was the first time Jim had woken up enough to competently function. The prior two days were hell on Spock. He could only sit aside as T’Pau repaired the damage and replaced the tiny bit of Jim’s katra she removed. If she hadn’t taken the precaution Jim would have died. The damage was so extensive, she functioned as Jim’s life support for 12.74 hours. His brain had to repair itself without worrying about a functioning body, so T’Pau beat his heart, she breathed for him, she told Jim’s body how to work.

Spock was restricted. He couldn’t make contact. It was hard to close off their connection, as it was fully renewed he only desired it more.

The yelling kept replaying in Spock’s memory. Maybe it wasn’t a logical choice to ask, but what was logical in this relationship?

“Was it worth it?”

Tears welled up in Jim’s eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes which shone with pure happiness once again confirmed it all. Spock didn’t need their bond to feel it.


	6. Roses and Thorns: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marriage is really fucking scary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I'm more excited about these two than I am about people irl. hmmm.

“We don’t intend to.”

Spock was pacing around Sarek and Amanda’s living room. It had been a Solar Week since he mated in the grips of Plak Tow. His only reason to visit his father was to communicate their wishes.

Sarek brought up the fact that Spock needed to make his marriage official with the government.

“You are bonded, that is enough reason to formally file the paperwork.”

“I bonded a human, that is enough reason not to.”

“Illogical.”

“What’s illogical is your initial disapproval of all of this. Only since it could diminish your status. Now you want us to document it. An action that cannot be hidden. It is public record.”

“And what are your motives to hide it?”

Spock chose his words wisely.

“Father, as you so pointed out yourself three days ago. An experience like mine and my husband’s is grounds for investigation. I cannot subject him to a loss of privacy.”

Sarek’s left eye twitched. A subtle but very telling reaction. Sarek hated the word. He could come to terms with mate, or bonding mate, but he was still averse to the term husband. The reality of his son’s very private intimate marriage ceremony was not acceptable.

Amanda stayed silent this entire time. She knew when to intervene, she’d been in this situation many times before. Father and son standing with a table between them, debating semantics. She wanted to throw Sarek under the bus, to tell her son what was confided to her.

Sarek had come home after a day’s work. Amanda greeted him as usual. Yet the look in his eyes were there, he was tired. He was asking permission to break down his emotional barriers.

“Sarek, tell me. What’s on your mind?”

“I do not believe I know how to handle my son growing up.”

Amanda smiled. It was sad, it was happy, it was confirmation of her own struggles. “As is life. He was bound to grow up. Bound to find someone he loves.”

“All at once?” He stared at his hands. “You were right to worry about him. To worry how he not once communicated any intentions of his. I am…perplexed how often Spock says he wants to be Vulcan, but his way of going about it, is..”

“Unorthodox? A bit rebellious?”

She pressed her hand against Sarek’s. “You must remember he’s half human. And humans desire to challenge the status quo. Appreciate him Sarek. Appreciate the fact he still follow’s Surak’s teachings. Appreciate that your son chooses to go about them in a human way.”

“I must—forgive me—relent to an emotional desire to look at my son once more where he saw only a father figure in me.”

Amanda kissed Sarek. She fully understood his grief.

Spock was waiting for an answer. Anything from Sarek that would either solidify his approval or denial. It was Vulcan, he couldn’t just storm out of his parent’s house. Sarek was still the head of their family, Spock had to abide by the custom.

Sarek faltered. Just slightly. “How is he? I have yet to inquire.”

“Recovering.”

“Perhaps. A compromise is in order.”

It took both Spock and Amanda by surprise.

“A human ceremony. The term escapes me.” He steepled his hands, trying to remember the term.

“A wedding?” Amanda finally chimed in. “You’d be fine with a wedding?”

Spock nodded. “An Earth wedding is still filed through Starfleet. Still documented in the Federation.”

“Theoretically a Vulcan can marry on Earth using the human ceremony, and it cannot imply a bonding.” Sarek nodded, confirming his own logic. “It would satisfy both parties, yes?”

Spock thought the nervousness would be gone for good. “I will have to ask him first.”

The declaration blew over Sarek’s head, but for Amanda the thought of her son on one knee holding a ring in his hand threw her into a state of silent excitement.

“Uuuugh, this is worse than the swamps in August,” Bones groaned. He was called to Vulcan by Spock himself.

The doctor wanted to ignore it, to pretend he didn’t get the message or he was just too damn busy to check, but he was truly curious for his friends’ safety. At least they were alive, but the state of Spock’s face truly threw Bones for a loop.

So he took the trip to Vulcan as a vacation.

He knocked on the door. “It’s fucking hot out here are you two trying to kill me?!”

Bless Spock for telling him they were alone.

“The door is open Doctor.”

Bones set his bag down and inspected the place. “A library? You two fucked in a library!?”

Spock sighed. He’s had enough of emotions. “Yes. We fucked in a library. It’s my personal collection of books from growing up.”

“So daddy just bought you a house to put them in?”

He raised a brow.

Bones waved a hand. He didn’t want to waste his time explaining what a WASP was when he could be looking him and Jim over.

“Where’s the other one, the normal one?”

“Sleeping. Would you like me to wake him?”

Bones shook his head. “No, let the kid sleep. He needs it.”

Spock shrugged. “Was your travel here well?”

“Uneventful. It was nice to have nothing eventful happen.” He inspected his lower lip which was still swollen. Spock and Jim had neglected to do anything about their superficial injuries.

“Are those?” Bones approached Spock, getting a little too close for comfort. “Teeth marks?”

It’d been such a long few months, Bones forgot what it was like to speak to a fully functional Vulcan. He’d gotten used to Spock breaking down in private and being vulnerable. What normally would irritate him, elated Bones.

“Yes, Doctor. Teeth marks. Would you be so inclined treat me?”

“Go sit down.”

Bones couldn’t hold in his curiosity any more. When he held up one of his lights to inspect the wound and started cleaning it he starting asking the questions Spock was expecting.

“So what was it like?”

“It was sex.”

“Alien sex.”

Spock knew he wasn’t going to escape it. Bones would put the pressure on him to explain in every detail for medical purposes. He figured explaining it verbally would be less compromising. It was still unsettling though to explain to anyone how your penis worked. It just wasn’t a question or a topic that was normally asked. Alas, cross-species interactions were forcing these conversations on everyone.

“Tendrils? Tendrils that can induce a meld? A meld that only other telepaths can endure?”

“Correct.”

“And that, whole thing—“

“Is why I will never penetrate him again.”

The repair on his lip was finished. Spock pointed to his collar bone.

Bones carefully ran his hand over the bone, it was broken. He barely made contact with it, when Spock’s breath hitched.

“That one, we’re waiting on until we get back.” He started inspecting more bruises, checking more scrapes. All was fairly well with Spock.

“So you’re not going to have sex with him? Ever?”

“Not if that’s a potential outcome. I saw it in his face. Overcome with pleasure and then…I did not and I do not want to hurt him like that ever again. Jim can do as he pleases with me. He can’t hurt me. But for myself it’s a restriction I must adhere to.”

“That’s very admirable of you Spock.”

“I love my husband more than I can verbalize.”

Bones smiled at the word. “Husband.” Yeah that is going to take time getting used to.

“Aha, you guys can’t gossip about me anymore.” Jim rubbed his eyes, he slowly walked into the room.

Bones watched. He took in all the bruising and scratches. He noted how Jim looked very much in pain with every step he took. What the doctor wanted to do was do his job, but Jim could also use a bit of friendly banter. At least try to put some normalcy into all this.

“No I’m still going to gossip about you. Oh and the entire campus knows you ditched your own event to have a fuck party.”

“THEY WHAT!?”

He laughed at Jim’s reaction. The horror that crossed his face was priceless.

“Jim it’s a joke.” Spock rolled his eyes.

He grumbled. He carefully sat down next to Spock, his husband.

_My husband!_

“Not a funny joke, Bones. I have a good reputation, you know.”

“Wasn’t the last big thing you did on campus was set every computer screen to a picture of a jar of mayonnaise?”

Bones laughed even harder. “That was you? Jesus, the whole med team was scrambling to figure out if a virus took over everything.”

“I never told you that, Spock. How the hell-“ Jim stopped himself. “Oh, right.”

“You could put your talents to something more useful.” Spock gently took one of Jim’s hands. “In the meantime, please mend these, Doctor.”

He eyed Jim’s hands. “I can’t. Same reason I can’t mend that collar bone of yours.”

Jim frowned. “I have to go another week not being able to use my hands? Do you know how hard it is not being able to use them? Or trying to use them?” His frown turned into a pout. “This is —“

“—my fault. I know.”

Bones saw the slightest tension between the two. He didn’t know if he picked up on it because it’d been a bit since he saw them, or if it was purely intuition.

“Sorry, Jim. I didn’t think you’d guys actually break bones.” He shrugged. “Well, no that’s a lie. You broke me. I know way more about you two than I ever wanted.”

He took notes and scanned them some more. There was some minor internal damage to Jim, but Bones didn’t want to comment on it, if it wasn’t actively destroying him. He wasn’t only making this examination for the physical injuries. After that quip, he wanted to observe. What really happened in those two noggins of theirs?

Jim started nodding off. He slowly leaned onto Spock’s bad shoulder, to which the Vulcan carefully lied his mate’s head down onto his lap.

“He sleeps about 16 Earth hours. Which is best for the both of us.”

“For the both of you?”

Spock nodded, gently brushing his thumb over Jim’s cheek. He wanted to incur pleasant dreams for him. A smile cropped up on Jim’s face.

“When he sleeps, or I sleep, the bond between us calms. Unless I actively try searching his sleeping mind, most everything but a generalized emotion is quiet.”

“And what’s he feeling now?”

“Content.”

“And you?”

Spock closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Unless it’s a medical emergency, Jim is the only one who has permission to know.”

Spock explained more of it to Bones. What it really meant to be bonded, what it felt like, and how they can still have their privacy. He told Bones a lot of things, but stopped short of what the doctor tried to get out of him. He wanted Spock to tell him on his own, but now he felt he had to force it out.

Jim had gotten uncomfortable in the position he fell asleep in. So Spock maneuvered him onto the couch, making sure his hands were still atop a pillow. The human sighed happily in his sleep, the Vulcan content that his mate was at peace.

Bones and Spock wandered the gardens, the sun was on its path to the horizon, yet it was still blazing hot for the doctor’s taste. Spock pointed them to a shaded area, where they both sat in the grass.

“I would come out here and meditate often,” Spock delved into those memories.

“It’s a pretty good spot you’ve got here.” Bones leaned back, taking in the beauty.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, only to be interrupted with a sigh.

“Leonard, I feel like Jim may not entirely enjoy this.”

“Enjoy? Being with you, every waking second of the day? No I couldn’t possibly see what’s wrong with that.”

“Drop the sarcasm, Leonard.”

Bones snapped his mouth shut. Another thing that wouldn’t be returning to normal. Jim would still impart on Spock. Spock would do the same.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have been quick to joke. He definitely has some animosity.”

“Animosity, a strong hostility towards someone.” Spock nodded. “Yes that’s the word I’d use. A bizarre emotion. Irrational and completely illogical because he also has not expressed any real animosity towards me. Perhaps at the situation?”

“He blames you? That’s what he was gonna say. And you finished his sentence off like you’ve already argued about it.”

“I asked him. I asked him if nearly dying was worth it. Was worth finally having sex with me. Every bit of him screamed ‘yes’ at me. Every little bit. I do not know where this is coming from.”

“From you, maybe?”

Spock kept his eyes down on the grass. He was distracting himself, picking out blades from the dirt.

“That I may be projecting something onto him which is projecting back to me? Curious.”

“You accept that as a possibility?”

Spock brought his knees to his chest. He didn’t care if the action aggravated his broken clavicle.

“Spock?”

“Maybe I do blame him for starting all this. Blame him for triggering a Pon Farr I shouldn’t have had. Blame him for yet another notch between my father and I. Yet I don’t want it to change. He is here,” he pointed to his head, “and he is here,” he held his side where his Vulcan heart lay.

“Spock you’re sounding very human right now.” Bones couldn’t help it. He had to point it out.

“It is incredibly difficult to speak of Jim in any other way.”

Spock was in his office grading papers. Even the most mundane work still had to be done. In 2.57 hours he was able to leave his post. Until then he was stuck in his office, grading. More grading. Catching up on grading.

His total absence from teaching was three weeks. He sent a courtesy thank you to his assistants for taking over. Jim persuaded him.

“I promise, they’ll love a thank you card. I love getting them. Just cause they did what they had to do as per their job duties doesn’t mean you can’t thank them. It’s nice!”

They were a bit wary, but Spock wasn’t averse to explaining his new found knowledge about human courtesy.

The work he had to catch up on wasn’t much, but after months of inner struggle he found it difficult to keep his attention. Pon Farr grated on him, and like a snap he was back to normal. As Jim said, “that’s it!?”

It wasn’t helpful that his and Jim’s lives were nearly identical to that of last year. Separate homes, almost incompatible schedules, a bond that kept them close at all times. Even now he could feel Jim in the back of his mind. A little nudge couldn’t hurt.

He was inundated with joy. It couldn’t hurt. He was alone with the door shut. Spock smiled.

The work was almost done, he could take a break from it. His personal tablet lied atop his stack of books. He grabbed it and searched: How to propose marriage.

Spock assumed the ideas were great for their purpose. An over the top approach for romantics, a quiet intimate moment for introverts. They were ideas, merely suggestions not to be followed to the tee.

He couldn’t predict what Jim wanted. They never discussed weddings. Now he could slightly probe Jim’s mind, but that was invasive. Maybe secretly, Jim wanted an over the top wedding, something that matched the photos Spock was looking at. Maybe that’s why Jim was still slightly resentful.

No, why he was still slightly resentful.

Troves of flowers. Parties. Friends and family gathering. How illogical.

A bit tantalizing.

Absolutely illogical.

However.

The chime at the door drug Spock away from his inner bickering. He flipped his tablet over.

“Come.”

Nyota bounced inside. “Oh thank god you’re still alive!”

“Where did you get the impression I was not?”

“Since I haven’t seen you in two weeks. Since no one has. Rumor says you and Jim had a huge fight.”

He raised a brow. “A fight?”

She made herself comfortable on the chair in front of his desk. “A nasty one. Throwing punches and everything.”

“Huh.”

He looked back down at the exam he was supposed to be grading. A perfect score.

“HUH? That’s all you have to say? You go missing and people on campus think you died, but you—“ She smiled. “You’re so fucking Vulcan.”

“Nyota, the real story is much more interesting. If you please, spread this rumor instead of the ridiculous one that’s been circulating.”

Before Spock continued on he thought about the consequences. A reprimand if investigated, possible discipline hearing. Revoked access to campus labs. Possible supervision and drug counseling. But he also considered how displeased his father would be.

Regardless, he told her.

“I synthesized opium in the chemistry lab and took it before the conference.” He rarely smirked in front of anyone, but Nyota’s shock deserved the response.

“Spock, are you fucking insane.”

He shrugged. “Absolutely preposterous question since every cadet needs a psych evaluation upon entering Starfleet. Now, go off Nyota. Spread that rumor instead. I … like it better.”

Nyota didn’t budge. She leaned on his desk. “So how was it?”

“How was what?”

“You know,” she glanced at the door, still shut. “Opium. What’s that like?”

“Happiness. In its purest form. There’s no condition to it. You are purely happy.”

Until Jim ruined it.

Spock pushed himself away from his desk when Nyota left.

“I am the one with resentment. Absolutely illogical. I should not feel it. There is no reason to feel it.”

He grabbed his tablet and looked at the photos. “Maybe? Maybe I am the one who wants this charade. It makes no sense. There is no purpose to a wedding other than a showboating attempt. What good does that do? Yet, documentation of an intimate moment..”

The thought of Jim wearing a suit surrounded by sunflowers confusingly excited him.

“Human symbolism is absurd. And why do I keep talking to myself?”

“Cause sometimes it’s better to verbalize?”

Jim kneeled next to Spock. He kissed him on the cheek. “You okay? I got the impression you’re a little stressed.”

“Stressed?”

“Okay, not stressed. But would rather be elsewhere.” He looked around. Seeing Spock grading papers but also with a tablet in his hands. “Not usually like you to take a break while working.”

“I suppose not.”

“How much longer?”

“2 hours.”

Jim waltzed his way to the chair. He set his bag down and got comfy. “I’m still allowed as per your open invitation right? If no one is here I just come in and hang out?”

Spock nodded.

“Great! Class let out early, so I’ve got nothing to do.” He pulled out a book. “I won’t bother you. I just want to be near you.”

“Stone grey or navy blue?”

Jim laughed, “what?”

“Curious. Just choose one.”

“Stone grey.”

“I like this one more than the last one.”

They were standing in the middle of an empty living room. Jim had inspected every room, every door handle, and every floorboard. He liked the location and loved the idea of having a backyard.

“What was wrong with the last location?”

“Too close to the city.”

“It is conveniently close to campus.”

“But this house has everything we could want.”

“The last house—“

“The last house doesn’t have a beach behind it.”

Spock folded his arms. Ever since Jim approached him about finding a place together he was wary. It would have been logical for Jim to move in with him, but it wasn’t what Jim wanted. After much avail, Jim presented Spock with a full presentation about why it was better for them to start somewhere wholly new.

It was a month of searching. There wasn’t a shortage of houses, quite the opposite. But the two couldn’t agree on any locations. Spock liked efficiency. He liked modern aesthetic. Jim adored the old style townhouses of San Fransisco. But he also wanted space, a yard, an escape.

“Jim you forget there will be periods where we won’t even be on the planet.”

“Spock you forget that it’s my name going on the deed.”

He never forgot to mention that fact. Spock was starting to resent the phrase, and his decision to let Jim take full ownership. Another point of contention. They weren’t married here. No marriage license meant they were still two separate people and not a unit.

If only the government could see their bond.

Spock shoved his hands into his pockets. “Put it on the short list.”

Jim radiated excitement.

They found a cafe not too far from the neighborhood they were in. Brick walls, deep mahogany floors, and lots of open space with massive windows letting in as much natural light as possible. If they did end up in this neighborhood, at least Spock knew where he’d spend time working.

The cortado was well made, another positive. The latte Jim ordered, as disturbingly destroyed by as much sugar as possible, was still beautiful. Spock looked out the windows and watched the passersby. Walking dogs, shopping, enjoying the sunshine. It wasn’t like the inner city, where it was bustling with an overabundance of workers. The people here were doing as Jim wanted: escaping.

“This neighborhood is so pretty. And there’s good coffee!” He happily sipped on his latte. “When we were walking over I saw a farmer’s market. We could still make homemade stuff throughout the week. Maybe we could invite Bones over for Sunday dinners instead.”

“It’s not just about a house is it?”

Jim smiled. The bashfulness resonated through their bond. “No. You can have convenient locations all you like, but I’m here for the experience.”

“I’m starting to understand.” He continued to admire Jim. “However, I don’t understand that beverage.”

“What?!” He started laughing. “We were having such a serious moment too.”

“And your beverage continues to ruin it.”

“I like raspberry and hazelnut and when I saw they had cocoa powder I couldn’t resist.”

Spock pulled the cup towards him. He tried it.

“This tastes like pure sugar.”

“I asked them to put in extra.”

“Jim, milk already has sugar. You hardly need to put any extras—“

“Spock.”

“Hmm?”

“Just let me enjoy my latte.”

He pushed the cup back to him. “I have something else to discuss.”

“Oh yeah?”

“We chose not to make our marriage official on Vulcan.”

“Right. We said it would just be too much on us.”

“But what about here?”

Jim furrowed his brows. “Yeah you’re right we have that option too.”

“Did you want to apply for a marriage license?”

“Don’t they make you go through counseling and stuff for that? That way we’re not like wasting the government’s time or something?”

“I think that’s optional, but the counseling could be beneficial.”

“Right.” He grabbed both their cups and took them to the wash bins. Spock watched him with acute discretion. It was human nature to avoid situations that were uncomfortable. It was precisely what Jim was feeling.

“How about we wait on that. I got finals coming up and with us looking for houses there’s just a lot to keep sorted. Is…that okay?”

Spock shielded his disappointment, but it was logical on Jim’s part. To handle one thing at a time, they say.

Whoever “they” are.

“It’s okay, my sweet. I do have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“Inside or outside?”

“Er, outside?”

They ultimately decided on the house. Jim was ecstatic to move in and finally have his own property. He was also happy just to know he’d be able to see Spock every day no matter if their schedules allowed it.

He stood in his kitchen, HIS kitchen, waiting for Spock to come home. Most of his day was spent unpacking boxes. He sent for his things left at his mother’s house, she was happy to hear the news.

There were still boxes floating around. Most of them unsorted. Jim grabbed the box his mom packed especially for him. Surprises, she said. Most of the box were typical house warming gifts. He was thankful for that. Always up to his mom to keep him from forgetting the obvious.

Jim thought he finished through the box, but there was one item left. It was a small container. Leather. A letter was attached.

**“He’s proud of you. I have no doubt in my mind.”**

He opened the box. A badge glimmered back at him. Jim carefully took it out, he didn’t want his fingerprints to smudge up the metal. He turned it over, the typical information. Name, serial number. This one had his father’s birth and death date.

It knocked the breath out of him.

The badge sat on the counter, he stared at it. He couldn’t hold it anymore. This shouldn’t be his. Why would she hand something like this to him. This is for her. She has the memories. He only has stories.

Despite it being late, Jim messaged her.

Winona would always drop whatever she was doing for her son. Late at night or early morning. At home or in some random corner of the planet teaching. She always picked up.

“Jim?”

“So I got your gift.”

She recognized it. The irritation. The appreciation for it, but also the underlying annoyance.

“Jim, he’s your father. He belongs to you as much as he belongs to me.”

“Starfleet makes only one of these. For the spouse. Why would you part with it?”

“Because it’s easier to carry with you everywhere you go.” She smiled. “Sweetie, he’s all around me here. I have tokens of his that mean just as much. Those don’t mean anything to you. But this? I can see it right now. I can see just how much it means.”

“Okay but if you’re gonna do something like that again, please do it in person.”

“And when will I finally be able to see you again?”

“Maybe I’ll make time in the summer. I’ll talk to Spock see if he wants to come along.”

He blushed seeing Winona break into a wide grin.

“How is he? How are you both doing?”

“He’s great. He teaches too you know, I don’t know why you haven’t bonded over that. I mean he’s more into math and science but it’s all the same. You guys are still teaching others. Yeah! We’re doing great.”

“Just great?”

Jim grabbed some water. He wasn’t entirely thirsty but he needed to find a way to waste time.

“Jim, stop stalling.”

Moms know their children too well.

“Well I mean yeah we’re great. Spock moved in with me.” He took a big gulp of water. “And I’m still low-key freaking out about it.”

“Please tell me you two talked about this. Jim I swear to god if you persuaded the poor boy into something he didn’t wa—“

“Mom, he’s Vulcan and I don’t really have the skills to persuade him into doing bullshit for me, yet.”

“Jim!”

“A bad joke, sorry.” He laughed thinking about himself trying to debate Spock or convince him to do something inane. “I’m just freaking out cause this is the longest monogamous relationship I’ve ever had. Almost 2 years. Almost 2 years of trying to figure him out. I don’t even know half of it.

“Some days I feel trapped. Some days it’s fine. Overall I’m fine. It’s the days I feel trapped I’m worried about. I love him. I love him! Why do I feel trapped?”

“Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“A counselor could help you more with that than I could.”

“Yeah. I know.”

They said their parting words. She was right. Maybe they did need to go to counseling. Especially since Spock brought up a marriage license. He’d spent so much of his life alone. When he finally started dating he wanted to be surrounded with people who filled the desires he wanted. One partner could fulfill some needs, and another could fill the rest. He had options.

With Spock, that was it. It was Spock and no one else. Jim wasn’t used to the idea that one person could wholly take care of him. Maybe Jim had to separate Spock into two entities. There was the mental side. That bond. The all encompassing warmth that surrounded him when he was nearby and the ember that smoldered while he was away. He’d never be alone again.

Then there was the physicality. Jim still tried to figure that one out. They were always physically affectionate in private, that didn’t bother Jim in the least. But his first time with Spock was not in the least what he expected. An incredible orgasm and the ability to share it with the one he loved? Yes. Coming close to death because the one he loved initiated something completely incompatible with the human brain? No.

Jim laughed just thinking of the conversation. How it would even begin.

_-“We need to talk about your dick.”_

_-“It’s a dick.”_

_-“That harpooned me.”_

_-“Yes.”_

He did really need to talk about that.

“He should be home soon.” Jim glanced at the chronometer. 19:00. “No, he should have already been home.”

He sighed. He still needed to eat, but he didn’t feel like it. He still needed to fully set up all the technology, but that was too tedious considering all the customizations. At least he didn’t have to figure out the environmental controls.

“Hey computer, play a variety of punk rock from the 21st century.”

“Any specific parameters?”

“No shuffle it starting with Green Day.”

Jim lied on the floor taking in the familiar tunes. He’d been on such an oldies kick he forgot about the punk movement in music. No matter the utopia, there was a place to question the status quo. He closed his eyes, humming along.

The front door opened. 19:30.

“Computer, shut music off.” Jim sat up. “You’re late.”

“Apologies.” Spock shut the door behind him. He handed a bundle of sunflowers to Jim. "I ended up distracting myself down at the market.”

The floral smell sent Jim into a silent frenzy.

_My husband came home._

_He brought me flowers._

_My husband walked through our front door and handed me flowers!_

“You’re welcome, t’hy’la.”

He wrapped his arms around Spock. “What distracted you?”

“You.”

“Oh right earlier I was thinking about your di-“

Spock pressed his lips against Jim’s, hands resting on the small of his back.

“It’s a topic of concern, I know.”

Another kiss.

“I mean it’s not really concerning for me in a bad way. I’m just really curious about it. The fact that you walk around with that thing in your pants, though. It’s a fucking weapon!”

Spock brushed his thumb over Jim’s cheek. The playfulness of the conversation gone. “I almost killed you. That is to be taken seriously.”

“During Pon Farr. You almost killed me during that. But now? We can work on it.”

“Seriously?”

Jim pulled away. He smelled the flowers he held onto this entire time.

“You’re gonna have to. It’s not like you’re not gonna use it the rest of your life. Besides, my dick is way less exciting than yours and I really want to play around.”

Spock could only stand in the same spot as he watched Jim jaunt into the kitchen. He was talking about how he was hungry or something. Spock wasn’t quite paying attention.

“Seriously,” he repeated.

“Oh!” Jim poked his head around the corner. “You’ll love this new rumor about you. So since you moved out everyone either thinks you got in trouble for your opium stunt and got sent to a penal colony, or that you finally got assigned a post on a ship.”

He forgot that he told Nyota to spread the very true rumor about him doing opium.

“Granted, most people think the opium rumor is fake.”

“Of course.” Spock was still thinking about his own dick.

Jim laughed. Like Spock before, he knew. This time he was going to let Spock revel in his own torture. He really was hungry. And he wanted to get the flowers into a proper vase.

“Jim?”

He was barely even able to contain his laughter when he watched Spock disjointedly walk into the kitchen.

“Hey I’m hungry for food.” He sighed lovingly, “pants down, hop onto the counter.”

“Jim this is hardly-“

“It’s my house and I’ll do what I fucking want. And I want you to pull your pants down and get onto the counter.”

The ever combative Jim that Spock couldn’t resist. He complied, at least being able to remove his erect penis from his underwear felt much better.

“Jim, I can take care of this myself it’s fi-Aaaaah!?”

Warmth enveloped the entirety of his dick. The fleshy smooth texture of Jim’s tongue heightened his color perception. He was pretty sure he could feel the temperature rise 30 degrees.

A blow job was an act he never considered. Then again there were a lot of sexual activities he knew he was ignorant of. At least there’d be a life time of learning those. Jim would make sure of it.

He was making sure right now that Spock was going blind.

_“The best thing about our bond is that I can keep talking during this and I can tell you everything I’m doing before I even get there. I can keep running my tongue along the underside. A tug here. A pull there. God damn I love this alien dick. If only those tendrils could deep throat me…”_

“JIM!” Spock’s voice went higher than the both of them expected. He had to grab on to Jim’s head, clutching at his hair, pulling at it.

Jim pulled out, his eyes lustfully dark. “Yes?” He smirked.

“I didn’t say to stop?!” He pushed Jim’s head back down.

Spock couldn’t comprehend the swirl of emotions. Satisfaction. Pleasure. Endearment for Jim. This wasn’t forced or needed. It was enjoyable. This is how sex should be. Not what Pon Farr turns it into.

If it weren’t for Jim holding Spock’s knees he would have likely fell off the counter while ejaculating.

Jim pulled away, pleased to see the sight before him. The deep breaths, the sweat on the forehead, the shaking hands. Spock collapsed onto his back.

“Jim.”

“I’m still hungry.” _And you didn’t harpoon me_. Jim frowned, teasing him.

“I am not going to harpoon you.”

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to experiment on you like this?”

Dae finished laying out the design on the paper. They were going over their line art to make sure it would look just right once applied.

“You’re an artist and I’m allowing you to use my body as a canvas. So of course. I trust your skill.”

Spock inspected the design. A typical Japanese Maple design with key differences. Spock chose the maple because of its brilliant red leaves in the fall. Autumn. The season where they bonded.

“I’m just stoked to have an alien to draw on. Just a different skin type to play with, different ways the ink reacts.” They lied the stencil along Spock’s arm. “Your skin lets me try this idea. You ready to hear it?”

“I’m intrigued.”

“We’ll have the standard design. Beautiful bold black lines since those fit with your other piece. But the leaves are going to be different types of inks. The base, will be autumn leaves like you want. But if you’re in different types of light, those autumn leaves will give way to summer, spring, and even winter with nothing at all.”

“Fascinating.”

“Gotta warn you though there’s gonna be a lot of cross play here. Going over and over. You still okay with that?”

Spock nodded.

Dae freelanced for Starfleet. It’s how they met Spock. The artist was on campus interviewing their specific client before returning to the studio. Spock, only two months into his tenure at the academy asked Dae about their tattoos. He was invited to learn about the culture Dae was trying to keep alive, as well as the historical importance. It made Spock think of the Vulcans pre-Surak.

“Thankfully this one isn’t going to hurt as much. The ribs are a brutal place to get something done.” Dae turned on their gun. “Alright you ready for this?”

Spock nodded once more. He focused to block out the pain, pleased that this time Pon Farr was not messing with his mental capabilities.

“Okay, so it’s been a bit. I need updates. How’s your sweet little human boy doing?”

“Jim is well. He may stop by if time permits. Although, his disposition towards needles will more than likely keep him away.”

It was endearing how Dae always called Jim “Spock’s little human boy.” Curious phrase as Dae was human themselves. But the artist was thoroughly invested in this relationship as a viewer of a soap opera, and invested in Jim as a character.

“I see, he just doesn’t want to meet me. I get it. I’m making this beautiful tattoo for him and he can’t even stop by to see me working.” Dae grinned. “Does your boy know you’re doing this for him?”

“He does not.” Spock scrunched up his face, a bit of pain leaking through his mental block.

“Sorry man, the forearm is gonna be the worst of it, I promise. You might get hit again when we bring the sleeve up to the collar bone, but you’ve got that crazy awesome physiology going for ya.”

Meanwhile Jim was sitting across from Bones at their usual table at their usual bar. They did a shot of tequila before moving onto something to sip on.

“Is it worth getting a marriage license?”

Another one of these discussions, Bones thought. He ordered another rye.

“For some people yes it’s worth it.”

“Why?”

“You know what a marriage license is, right?”

“I’m not a total idiot, Bones.”

“Then why are you asking?”

“Spock brought it up. And he made a good point. To at least make it official here. But I don’t see why we have to. And you were married once. I just want advice.”

“I think it’s a useful tool for couples that can actually stay together.” He drummed his fingers on the glass. “Why didn’t you guys get one on Vulcan?”

“For a bunch of emotionless people, they’re quick to judge. Basically, to keep his people from seeing him as a giant slut.”

Jim gulped down his drink, vodka and lemon lime soda. “Spock is definitely not a slut. I’m the slut in our relationship, but they’ll go after him not me. And that’s not fair. At least on Earth I’ve got street cred.”

“Street cred?” Bones smirked. “Okay that’s pretty true. I could definitely ask you for advice if I needed to. But why not? Why not get one here? You can pool resources together, get all kinds of benefits…”

“And never ever be able to serve on a ship together, and never being able to pronounce Spock’s full name. I tried and it didn’t work out well. I keep trying, Bones! There’s Spock finally meeting the rest of my family and god I don’t actually want that to fucking happen. And then there’s the whole filing thing with Starfleet and the next of kin thing they make you do and it’s—it’s-“

“Terrifying?” Bones nodded. “I think it would be pretty more terrifying for either one of you to die and the other is left with nothing.”

Jim thought about his mom. How she would have been left with absolutely nothing of George’s property. How shitty of a life it would have been. It was starting to hit. This wasn’t just a bond that happened on accident. They performed the ritual on Vulcan, by all means they were married, they just didn’t document it. Despite that, the marriage was still very much valid. Another Vulcan couldn’t approach Spock and claim him, he was already bonded, it was impossible.

But on Earth, there weren’t any fantastical rituals humans had in comparison. You simply married someone you loved. Hell, the lost generation of the millennium married each other simply because it was cheaper to live.

Their bond couldn’t stay secret forever.

“Bones. Did it take you a stupid amount of time to realize that you actually, very legally, very lovingly had a wife?”

“We were together for a while before we got married Jim. We kinda fell into the routine.”

“And that’s where we differ.”

“You said it before, at this same damn table. You shot-gun wedding’d yourself.”

“And now that I’m not affected by his Pon Farr…”

“…You gotta come to terms with it.”

“What’s the easiest way to do it?”

“Roll on up to city hall and talk to a clerk.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Dae wanted to take a break, so they invited Spock back to their desk. It was covered in doodles and sketches as well as other commissions. Dae made room for their snack, hummus and veggies, of which was offered to Spock.

“I packed extra cause I finally prepared to do a long session! I dunno how you feel about radishes, I’ve been on a kick lately. But there’s the typical fare.”

Spock shared in the veggie salad, appreciative that Dae always thought of their client’s well being.

“I do also have something to show you,” Spock pulled out a small black container, he handed it to Dae. “This is also for Jim. I’m uncertain when, but—“

“Oh my gaaaaaaaad!” Dae practically screamed in the highest octave known to genetic males. “This is the most gorgeous ring I’ve seen in years!”

They held it under their desk light that was normally reserved for working details on art pieces. It was platinum, three ropes of the metal twisted with sapphire inlays.

“If this is just the engagement ring I can’t even imagine what the wedding band looks like.”

Spock pulled out his tablet. He flipped through a few documents and lied it on the table. “The engagement ring will sit in-between the double band.”

“For fuck’s sake Spock this is killing me!” They handed the ring back to Spock, absolutely giddy.

There was a chime, an alert as to someone entering the shop. Dae and Spock filed into the lobby. Jim was standing at the counter, enamored with some of the jewelry displayed in the glass case.

Dae wanted to scream. They’ve seen photos of Jim before, and coupled with the stories, they had wanted to meet him for a year. Spock’s looming proposal made them even more excited.

“It’s about time I finally get to meet Spock’s immortal beloved.” Dae approached the counter, “You’re more than welcome to come back.”

Jim frowned. The thought of the sound, the thought of the tattoo gun itself made him cringe.

“We’re taking a break, Jim. You won’t see a thing.” Spock came around and grabbed Jim’s hand.

“No. Uh I’m plenty fine right here,” the nervousness rattled through Jim’s voice. “I was just checking when you’d be done.”

Spock looked over at Dae who was quite distracted by the two. Dae would have to tell Spock later on, but they did not think the two knew just how amazing they looked together.

“Working on it!” Dae pointed their finger into the air, making swirls as if they were painting. Planning their artistic course of action. “Four hours, most likely.”

“Then I’ll see you in four hours.” Jim backed off slightly from Spock. He waved at Dae. “Open invitation to hang out, anywhere. Anywhere but here.”

Dae hung their head trying to hide their grin while Jim left. “That is a nervous wreck, Spock.”

“Yes I definitely got the impression. And it wasn’t just because of his dislike for the tattooing process.”

“I suggest you take him somewhere that’ll make him feel right at home. No fancy restaurants, or romantic spots.” After a small silence Dae brightened up once more. “Oh! I think going to the ice cream shop would do the trick.”

“Quite an assumption.”

“Humans will always enjoy ice cream, Spock. It’s the perfect comfort food. The perfect treat! If you all wanted to take over the planet, just lure us away using old-timey ice cream shops.”

Spock decided to take Dae’s advice. He walked out of the shop, his arm completely decorated. Jim had been waiting outside for only a few minutes, he went back to campus and studied.

He scanned the tattoo, its brilliant fiery reds contrasted so well with Spock’s skin. Dae was an exceptionally good artist.

“I will make sure to tell them, you approve.” Spock held out his hand to which Jim gratefully took it. They started to walk down the block.

“You didn’t explain this one for me.” Jim cozied up to him.

“It’s us. Our bond. We bonded for the first time in autumn.”

The warmth coming from Jim was overwhelming. Most of the day Spock could feel his nervousness and impatience. It was a welcome change.

“You’re so sentimental.” He sighed happily. “And in Summer we’ll be legally married.”

That twinge of uncertainty came back, but it wasn’t as prominent as it was when Spock first brought up a marriage license. “You’ve given it thought.”

“I made an appointment. I looked through your schedule and we can get one tomorrow at 11 am. So right after your physics class and right before that stupid fucking evaluation I have to take.”

“Evaluation? You never mentioned one.”

“I might have skipped a few steps. Okay I skipped a lot of steps because I’ve been testing out of shit. It’s uh, bridge officer’s eval. I mean I still have no rank, but at least they can put me on a bridge and not worry I’m gonna fuck something up.”

“You failed to even tell me you were testing out of classes.”

Jim nodded. “Surprise? I never liked school. Or at least traditional school. I’m trying to get out of as many 200s and 300s as possible.”

He wrapped an arm around Spock’s waist. Jim wanted to enjoy the early summer chilliness. The trees lining the street were full and lush with a mighty deep green. The aimless stroll calmed him.

“You know, it’s quite alright to be nervous.”

“It feels so final.” Jim focused on the ground, his step was always half an inch away from the edges of the slabs of concrete. “Not saying what we have now isn’t very final.”

“But this is a legal finality.”

“Exactly! And that means—“

“We can discuss this over a snack.”

He looked up at Spock. His eyes were distant, no doubt lost in his own concerns. Jim could feel a wavering from him as well.

“What were you thinking?”

“Ice cream.”

“Spock, are you sick? Why on Earth…?”

“I can smell the sugar from the shop at the end of the block. And there is no reason other than you, my sweet, that I would be craving such a food item.”

It wasn’t just Dae’s suggestion. He was craving the dessert. A rarity to give into such cravings, since ice cream didn’t serve a purpose in Spock’s diet. But he figured he’d have to indulge once in a while. For Jim.

“Mmmm okay, cause I was actually really craving butter pecan.” He gave Spock a squeeze.

Jim got two scoops of butter pecan and a third of chocolate chip cookie dough. Spock stuck with a single scoop of huckleberry. They found a table in front of the shop windows on the sidewalk. The shop was too small for Jim’s taste. Their planned conversation made him slightly claustrophobic.

“I really don’t know where to begin?” He stalled, trying to find the best spot of ice cream to scoop first.

“Well, it is a legal document. A contract. A binding of two people’s assets.”

Jim licked his spoon clean, still stalling. The nervousness was back. “Yeah that.”

“Jim.”

“What? Okay so like what do we do with that? I have assets. But you have like what, a fucking trove of everything that’ll be inherited. I might as well be marrying a prince.”

“Absurd.”

“Absurd? How is that absurd?”

“There aren’t hierarchies like that on Vulcan.”

“But you still come from a highly respected family. With connections everywhere.” Jim slumped into his seat. “Oh my god I fucking ruined it dude. After everything I said to your dad he is going to make it his life’s goal to make mine miserable.”

Spock could only sit and eat his own ice cream. While it was true, Jim said a lot of things to Sarek he wasn’t proud of, but Jim was also unaware of Sarek’s compromise.

“I doubt Sarek would do such a thing, and if he did you would have been subject to it already.”

“Maybe you’re right. But I can also see him trying to get me to pronounce the family name in front of other Vulcans.” Jim tried saying it, but fared no better than when Spock first spoke it. “I’d love to have that name attached to mine, but it would be pointless, I can’t even say it!”

It surprised Spock. So that was the reason why Jim was lamenting over pronouncing the family name.

“I suggest to keep yours and then use mine in addendum. I will admit that didn’t occur to me.”

“Well? I can take your name right? That’s gotta be decided for tomorrow.”

“I consent, but why is this an issue for you? To take someone’s name is very personal, and after all the nervousness, the uncertainty…”

“I dream about stupid things Spock. I had a dream two weeks ago and everyone referred to me with that name. When I woke up it just, stuck.”

Jim stole a bite of Spock’s ice cream. He wanted to mask his bashfulness. Of all the stupid small things Jim had been dreaming about lately, it was the name. He was scared to hell, but the dream never left his consciousness.

As of 11:23, Spock and Jim signed their names on a legally binding contract. There was more fanfare outside city hall than there was in the room in which the document was signed.

“Let me see it one more time.”

Spock kept the paper secured in his bag. While the license was filed digitally, as per tradition a paper one was signed for the government and for the couple.

“There’s only two of these in existence and knowing your luck it will fly out of your hands in the wind and be lost for good.” Spock lifted his brow, “And you know I do not believe in luck.”

“Okay but I just want a photo with it so I can give my mom a surprise.”

“You’ve yet to tell her?”

It was enough distraction to loom in and grab Spock’s bag. Jim ran off, laughing and grinning like an overly-exited-just-got-married idiot. When he crossed the road he turned around, blowing a kiss.

“I love you I’ll see you after my exam bye!”

He watched his husband run down the block, he even thought he saw him jump in excitement.

“He has my fucking security badges,” Spock mumbled to himself.


	7. Roses and Thorns: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim has a weird night. Spock and Bones share some quality time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one, but we're wrapping some things up for the finale. Fell into a bit of a different style, and I blame James Joyce. I will need to purge his writing style from head.

_“Im okay._

_I promise Im okay._

_just give me 3 days. I gotta think”_

“Two and a half months. Congrats, most married couples don’t last that long before their first fight.”

“It wasn’t a fight.”

Bones opened the lid on the giant mason jar sitting on the deck railing. It was an unusually warm summer, enough for Bones to spend his weekend making sweet tea. He stirred the contents and gave it a taste.

“Then what was it?”

The Vulcan was lying flat on his back on the deck. The solar rays heated the wood, soothing Spock’s tense muscles. He’d been driving any sense of worry deep deep down.

“It was total rejection of a wedding proposal.”

As much as Spock didn’t want to admit, as much as he tried to repress it, he was nervous. It was the day he was finally going to ask Jim to have a proper wedding ceremony. A proper proposal.

Spock discovered that the most successful proposals were made in earnest, something that showed off the true colors of the proposals. Through introspection Spock discovered he enjoyed the complexities in the simplest of things. It was going to be simple. A walk. Just a walk.

“Didn’t I tell you having a house right by the beach would be a good idea?”

His hair was delightful that day. A bit grown out for Spock’s taste, but Jim was a bit preoccupied to think about getting it trimmed.

He’d been lifting weights. His deltoids were getting more pronounced.

“A good idea,” Spock repeated.

Jim had been cheerful. A broad smile. They went for iced coffee earlier that morning. Toast and jam. The past few weeks Jim was enjoying waking up in Spock’s arms. His new normal. Mornings were his favorite. Slow to start, he got to soak in the sun waiting for Spock to wake.

“Hey, you doing alright?” Jim grabbed Spock’s hand. He liked speaking out loud rather than telepathically. He noticed Spock’s nervousness.

“Fine.” Spock placed the ring box in Jim’s hand. “I do want to ask you though.”

“What’s this?” Jim opened the box. “No, Spock really what is this?”

“I was wondering if you’d actually marry me. A wedding.”

Even through the sun kissed skin he lost all color. Spock couldn’t forget the wave of fear that hit him.

“Wait. This is. This is a ring. For me. You—“

“I would like to put this ring on your finger during a wedding ceremony.”

“So, then what? He ran away or something?”

Bones procured two glasses and poured the sweet tea. He handed one to Spock, who still lied on the floorboards of the deck.

“The term, ‘broke’ works in this situation, correct? He couldn’t even respond after that. I was hit with crashing waves of fright. Curious.”

“You know, he was freaking out about that marriage license.” He sat next to Spock, disregarding the deck chair right next to him. “But he went through with that.”

“I wonder if it’s because simply obtaining a marriage license is impersonal. A document to be forgotten over time.”

“I hate the fact that your deduction is true.” Bones frowned. He could fully remember his own wedding. He didn’t remember when they actually got the document. He didn’t even remember where the damn thing was stashed until she pulled it out and shredded it.

“I am uncertain as to how I proceed.”

“First, you gotta show me that ring.” He waited for Spock to grab the box that had been sitting on the kitchen bar for the past day. Bones caught the well executed toss.

“Holy shit.” Bones inspected it. “Even if I was expecting a marriage proposal, I’d be floored seeing this.”

“Did I over do it?”

He shook his head. “I’d be floored Spock, but this is truly a piece to be treasured. I’m sure in time he’ll love it.”

The tea was refreshing. Enough to calm the worry. At least for a bit.

“I’m, I’m gonna go and uh think for a bit.” Jim ran a hand through his hair. “That’s okay? I dunno I just gotta—“

He looked at the ring once more. The sapphire inlayed between the twisted metal was something uniquely Spock. A symbol. He was a sap for that. Jim delicately placed the ring box back into Spock’s hand.

“I love you. I love you a whole lot, but I am really freaking out right now.”

There was no logic to it. They were already married. What would a wedding do? What could a ring possibly invoke? Spock tried to pry at Jim’s mind but he was having none of it.

He walked away without another word.

“Jim texted me this morning.”

Bones read the messages. “I’m sorry.”

“Human response to something unfortunate to which another response is unfound.”

“I can only offer an apology and some company. I know a real good grilled artichoke and tofu recipe and I know you’ve never had grilled peaches before.”

“You are trying to compensate the sudden disappearance of my husband with food.”

Bones nodded. “I’m a Southern North American. This is how we cope.”

Spock appreciated Bones’ efforts. When he contacted him about Jim that morning, he showed up at the front door a half hour later. Human friends were interesting. There weren’t many species who considered friendships more familial than their actual families. Vulcan be damned, the Human race at least gave a shit.

“I suppose since Vulcans have no true coping mechanisms, then I will subject myself to grilled fruit. The distraction from trying to figure out why anyone would want to grill a fruit is helping already.”

They clinked their glasses of sweet tea together. They knew Jim would be okay. Spock would know if anything happened to him, the bond was barely there, but the immense pain of losing Jim would eclipse anything.

He drove. He sped for as long as possible, avoiding traffic enforcers. It had been a while since he last did that. He said fuck the helmet, fuck the proper shoes. He’d chance it.

_Why does Spock want a wedding? We’re married. We don’t need it. Just let me wake up next to him every morning, and let me focus on my goals._

The weather got warmer. The clouds cleared. He wondered how long he’d been on his bike. How far had he gone? Pushing 100mph most of the way. Hours.

The palm trees were a welcome sight.

_This is more than just a wedding, Jim. Stop fucking lying to yourself._

It wasn’t how he wanted to experience a long drive. But the liberation was all he could care for. He approached the city center, the old school gas lamps alight with fake flames.

“Must be San Diego. Has to be.”

Those stories all over campus: Go to San Diego if you want a real party. Go to San Diego if you want to pick up a guy or a girl or a non gendered friend for a good time. San Diego was like none other.

Midway was still there. The enormity of it impressed him. He tried to think of himself looking at one of these ships like they were new. Just as amazing as seeing a starship for the first time. It rekindled that urge. The urge to do better. If anything he could work on his social life, he could work on his professional life. He could work on his married life.

He wasn’t even 30, why did it sound like he was pushing 50?

The pier was empty. Only a couple of people were there to enjoy a quiet morning. Maybe they were like him, trying to sort out their issues.

Jim sent Spock a message. It was the least he could do. 10 hours and nothing, that wouldn’t be fair.

“I’ll just tell him I’m okay and not to worry. Maybe I just need a few days away.”

He thought about the four months of agony when Spock was off planet. The sleepless nights that gave way to exhausting long days. There were periods of anxiety he didn’t tell anyone about, not even Bones. If he told Spock he wouldn’t take any more assignments, thus stalling his career. He already felt like Spock was holding off on his career for him.

But Spock wasn’t the kind of person to come to a decision for the hell of it. He processed the information, weighed the pros and cons. Jim knew it well. Some days it would irritate him. His sweet loving Vulcan over analyzing the simplest things. A wedding though? A wedding after the fact. It must have been important to him.

He was starting to unravel the tightly coiled protective shields that belonged to Spock. The true colors of the one he married were shining more and more every day. Were all Vulcans so personable in private? Or was it just Spock? Jim had to remind himself that he hadn’t lived with Spock before. Sure a few nights were spent here and there, but he never saw the domesticity. And Vulcans were just as domestic as humans.

It plagued Jim not knowing just how badly he hurt Spock. That walk back home with a rejected ring in his hand. An important question left unanswered.

_Okay so I’m a fucking idiot and ruined his life. I probably ruined his career. I pretty much forced him to almost kill me during a mating ritual he shouldn’t have had to go through all because I wanted to fuck him so badly and then have a mind meld…_

_All he wants is a wedding. He wants the whole deal. He wants to share it with me. He wants to celebrate us._

_I wanted to tell everyone we were dating, he didn’t. He wants to tell everyone we’re married, I don't. What changed here?_

_While dating I could have left him. Could have broken it off. A lot easier. Marriage? Not so easy. I’d never leave him now. And he’s able to take me in his hands, and tell everyone that I’m his._

Spock never let up on his protectiveness. It wained after his Pon Farr, but it still lingered. Looks from Jim’s previous hookups and relationships were met with silent disdain. Spock would never consider treating Jim as his property, but the instincts that lingered were hard to combat. All Spock wanted was to make sure his bonding mate was safe.

A jealous Vulcan could be deadly.

“I might be pushing too much on him.”

They set up the fire pit. Bones was silently teaching Spock how to roast marshmallows. He had Spock hold a stick and he pierced the treat so it could be heated.

Spock silently followed the directions. Don’t let it burn, get it to a specific shade of brown.

“You might. But if I remember anything from my 20s it’s that I hated how it felt like the world was trying to fight me.”

“Is that typical of humans in their 20s?”

“Society for some fucked up reason wants us to get our lives together before we’re 35. And if we don’t then we’re useless and we should end up working some job better suited for a robot.”

Spock blew out the tiny flame on his marshmallow. Bones grabbed some graham crackers and pressed them down. He pulled off the s’more and handed it to him.

“There’s supposed to be chocolate.”

He pursed his lips. “Give me the chocolate.”

Bones handed the bag over. He made up his own s’more, a little extra toasted.

“Jim’s still getting used to the idea of one guy. When I met him he was in an open relationship and happily with others. You go against everything he is.”

“Chained to a monogamous relationship. He’s expressed his fears. I’ve expressed my concerns about it.”

“Alright, we’ve figured out that marriage licensees are impersonal. A wedding ceremony is more involved. He freaked out at the sight of the ring. Maybe he wants to live in some fucked up delusion where you’re married but outside of this house he pretends he’s not.”

Bones was half joking, but as the words came flowing he remembered his own reservations about marriage. Was he ready? Was it the right decision? Am I rushing into it?

“What purpose does that serve? To hide everything?”

“I bet you anything Jim wanted to get the documentation out of the way and just let your relationship proceed normally.”

This time Spock had a s’more with chocolate. He stared at it, trying to understand. It must have been the previous bites of chocolate he took from the bag.

“Spock, Jim just wants to have a normal fucking relationship. No Pon Farr, no fucking marriage. He just wants to be with you. Think about how you guys were a year ago. Happy? Content?”

“And no thoughts of a binding life-long decision.”

“Bingo.”

“Okay, let’s get this straight. You come into a strip club, you ask me to give you a lap dance. And you’re absolutely flaccid. You give me 60 bucks. No apologies.”

“That’s what happened.”

“So I’m not fucking insane to leave my job early to find you outside this joint to ask what the hell is wrong with you?”

She did follow him. Once he left the front door she made an excuse to leave. It was a slow night any way, the college kids were all out of town. The locals didn’t care. She might as well go on an adventure.

“You’re not insane. At least I dunno if you are. It’s not my business to know.”

“Well I’m not.” She eyed the bouncer who motioned if she needed any assistance. He nodded when she shook her head.

“Sorry I wasted your time. I was seeing if a theory was correct.”

“A theory?”

Jim smiled. “A theory if anyone other than my husband can get me hard. Guess not. I asked you cause you’re definitely my type.”

“And by ‘your type,’ what does that mean?”

“I’m trying to tell you that you’re beautiful without being a creep about it.”

They continued to walk down the sidewalk. Jim was leading the way, he wasn’t aiming to go anywhere, and she was warily following. One wrong move though she’d have him on his back screaming in pain.

“Oh.” She watched him more. Distracted definitely. He looked lost and defeated. “What’s your name?”

“James.”

“Mine’s Sonya.”

Jim blinked. “No way. There’s no way that’s actually your name.”

Sonya wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself. The cool air from the bay was starting to settle in after the sun set. “You saw right through it. I’m impressed.”

“See, you’re definitely my type. Smart and well-read. Do you study literature or something?”

“A professor actually.”

“And the sex work?”

“Fun.” She looked at the time. Still not late enough to call it. “Weird question, but there’s a cool pizza spot around the corner. You wanna grab something?”

Sonya had no idea why she felt the need to keep this guy company. It was out of character for her to even talk to anyone who asked her specifically for a lap dance. It wasn’t kosher. But Jim had a distant look, enough to make her consider that if she left him alone, he wouldn’t see the sunrise.

“Pizza? Shit, that sounds amazing. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

It was a true hole in the wall. Most of the tourists avoided it because it looked dingy on the outside. Once through the doors though there were a bunch of people laughing and cheering. They were enjoying the end of their work week.

“Julio, double pepperoni.”

She sat them down at a table near the counter.

“Okay James. What brings you to San Diego? Cause it’s definitely not the partying.”

“Oh you know, casually having an existential crisis and driving for so long I kinda just ended up here.”

“And where did you drive in from?”

“San Fransisco.”

“What, you’re Starfleet or something?” She half-joked.

“All Starfleet.”

That’s why she didn’t distrust him. Every Starfleet officer, every cadet she encountered carried themselves in the same manner.

The pizza was good. It was something that Jim needed. A perfect comfort food to get rid of the thorn in his side. He listened to Sonya share her favorite books: Crime and Punishment, Count of Monte Cristo, Drood.

“What’s Drood about?”

“Pretty much Charles Dickens fan fiction. Vampires, ghosts, and Dickens generally being an asshole to Wilkie Collins.”

He didn’t know much about Charles Dickens and hadn’t the slightest idea of who Collins was, but the fact a literature professor was willing to admit she indulged in fan fiction type writing amused him. He was just amused by the entire situation. Find a stripper. Fail to get hard. Finds out said stripper enjoys books as much as he does. All while sitting in a dingy shop with some of the best pizza he’s had.

“You said you were married?”

“Married.”

“Same.”

They left the shop, still too early for Sonya to call it a night. It was clear, and even more chilly than earlier. But the two had no reason to stop walking aimlessly. They talked about stupid things, like which Victorian author would win a fist fight. It was mindless banter.

Jim lived in the moment. He didn’t think once of his life back in San Francisco. He didn’t dwell on the long drive home. He mentioned Spock once, but it was a positive mention. There wasn’t any use crushing Sonya’s mood.

She was lively, dancing by every establishment that had music playing at their storefronts. “It’s already bad music, you can’t embarrass yourself when people pay money to get inside to dance to it.”

They wandered over to Seaport Village. The quaint area took on a different vibe at night. Less tourists milling about.

“God, I hate it so much.” Sonya climbed over the railing onto some rocks that lined the bay. “No matter how much the human race has evolved, we’re still so fucking obsessed with trying to do what society wants us to do. I’m a professor! Society thinks it’s wasteful for me to do sex work! I’ll hang out in a god damn strip club and make pretty boys like you happy if I want.”

Jim joined her on the rocks. The waves lapping against them was the only noise. The shops in the village had been closed for hours at this point.

“Okay, reminder it took a conversation about books for it to work.”

She threw her head back and laughed. Her voice echoed. “Honestly, this is the best night I’ve had in years. I was about ready to quit everything. I had a resignation letter ready for both jobs. I was going to tell my husband that I was going to travel the continent, and good luck with the dogs.”

“And what changed?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she smiled. “I just remembered that my life is the way it is now because I decided to step out of my comfort zone. Hell, maybe I’ll just take a leave. Still travel. Maybe I’ll take him with me.”

“Do it, maybe you’ll land somewhere better.”

Sonya shrugged off her cardigan and kicked off her sandals. “Like freeze to death in the fucking bay!” She grabbed Jim’s hand and pulled him into the water.

The water wasn’t as cold as Jim thought, but it was still freezing. He couldn’t even be mad when he resurfaced. Sonya was laughing some more, absolutely happy she could let her guard down. She used to be like this. Surprising people. Taking risks. Something in Jim rekindled that love of life.

. There was no use to fighting the absurdity of everything. He already drove ten hours, swimming fully clothed next to a ‘no swimming’ sign was fine. He gave up and floated on his back. The stars visible through the light pollution were still amazing to look at.

“Do you think about what it must have been like to look up at the stars and wonder if there was life other than us?”

“To feel all alone and uncertain about the future?”

“Even though fate already decided it?”

She gazed at him. His face worn with anxiety. His eyes were empty pools staring into the blackness.

“Guess that’s why it’s better to freeze in the fucking bay than it is to stay warm and dry on land.”

He already got used to the temperature of the water. It was the air that struck his exposed skin hard. He didn’t know if getting out or staying in would be more dangerous.

“Take risks and stop being complacent.” Jim scoffed. “I drove ten hours to learn this from a random girl who’s using a clever pseudonym. And who’s living up to it.”

“Ah yes, the whore with a heart of gold who tells the main character to get his shit together and stands by him no matter what.” She swam by him, climbing onto the rocks again. “I dunno what you’re going through right now, but it sounds like you should take that risk. I mean, you’re floating in the San Diego Bay fully clothed.”

Sonya was right. He was already doing stupid things. By comparison to all the real troubles in the universe his troubles didn’t make any sense. He was going to spend the rest of his life with Spock. He was going to love every bit of it. Why is a wedding ceremony the exception?

“You pulled me into the water fully clothed and I honestly have nowhere to go to change.”

“If you’re really Mr. Starfleet then you’ll gladly show your badge and they’ll let you crash in their building. Actually, they’re pretty chill here. I’ve crashed there before.”

The air really was brisk now that Jim thought about it. He nearly slipped on the rocks climbing back over the railing. Sonya could only laugh. She laughed harder when he pulled off his shoes to dump out water.

“Okay Miss Heart of Gold. Show me where the San Diego headquarters are.”

Bones ended up staying the night. He didn’t trust Spock to be alone for the same reason he didn’t trust himself to be alone after his divorce. Vulcan or not the sudden change in routine was still jarring.

He was also impressed with Jim’s choice in houses.

“Fucking kid shopped better for houses than me,” he mumbled. Six am. Coffee time.

The neighborhood was quiet that morning. Bones decided to take a walk down to the cafe, to grab some breakfast for both him and Spock. After their night making s’mores and Spock indulging in too much chocolate, the Vulcan passed out on the couch.

At least this time he didn’t drink himself into a raging stupor and passed out on glass.

Chocolate hangover? Bones could handle that.

He sat in the cafe sipping on his coffee while waiting for his food. He couldn’t resist ordering freshly made cinnamon rolls and pecan sticky buns.

The coffee was well balanced. A creamy mouth feel. That’s what he liked in a coffee, not the burnt trash that came as a standard in replicators.

Spock was just starting to come around when Bones came back. He took one look at the doctor and hid his face in the cushions.

“Well good morning to you too.” He put a cup and a white bag on the table. “I brought you breakfast. I figured you’d need it.”

His kindness was met with a groan.

“Okay, I tried to stop you from eating the whole bag. But did you listen? No.”

He lifted his head again, peaking at Bones who was savoring a bite of a sticky bun.

“More sugar?”

“Not for you. I got you some croissants. And a latte. Extra shot in there too.”

“Maybe later.”

“The longer you wait the worse you’re going to feel.”

Spock flung his feet onto the floor. He took a sip of the latte, letting the warm milk and espresso waken his body. This cafe really did make good coffee. Always just perfectly sweet.

“How come I’ve seen you hung over more times than Jim has?”

It was answered with an angry sigh.

“So chocolate definitely inhibits your ability to control your emotions for a lot longer than a Romulan drink. Interesting.”

“Are you done?”

“No.” Bones grabbed his items and sat next to him. “I got extra cinnamon rolls if you want one.”

Spock quietly took the extra roll. “Only because I’ve never had one.”

“Sure thing.”

Bones decided to text Jim. He wasn’t going to try and persuade him to come back before he intended, but he was going to try and make him feel guilty that his stupid runaway stunt forced his best friend to look after his husband.

Or something to that effect.

_"Hey just checking in. You okay? Been hanging out at your place."_

_"Weird night. But okay. What about him?"_

_"We made s’mores. Missed out._

_Get your fucking ass back home you shit."_

_"Yeah. I know. Breakfast first."_

“Well, at least Jim isn’t in a ditch somewhere.”

“He’s awake?”

Bones nodded, showing Spock the texts. Spock didn’t want to show it, but he was desperate to know for sure if “breakfast first” implied he was on his way. It also wasn’t normal for Jim to be awake this early of his own choice.

“Jim never wakes up before eight.”

“Ah, then that’s a good sign!”

“Unless he’s been awake all night.” Spock tried to drown his thoughts in the latte. What did “weird night” mean?

Jim was welcomed with “good mornings” from the Starfleet crew. Most of the members in San Diego were in maritime history and enforcement. They were the ones that kept the Midway Museum running. Sonya was right about their low-key relaxed demeanor. The city just didn’t need a military presence anymore.

“Yo we got your clothes all dry, buddy. Just don’t go jumping in the bay anymore, okay?” Commander Garfoyle spun around in his chair. He pointed to Jim’s clothes, all neatly folded and stacked on a table.

“I told you, I was pulled in.”

“Oh yeah, that’s what they always tell us. All youse cadets and your absolute need to go swimming in the bay. Man we got beaches for that.”

He waved him off. There wasn’t any point trying to fight a guy who lended him clothes. “Any good breakfast spots?”

Everyone turned away from their post.

“Donut Bar!”

Jim couldn’t refute a bunch of guys cheering over doughnuts.

The walk wasn’t short, but it gave him time to process. Once he hit the bed last night he was gone. There wasn’t time to consider what Sonya told him. What a weird night. Jim half thought Sonya was a ghost or a delusion. Whatever she was, she was right. He needed to take more risks.

He fumbled in his pockets to see who messaged him so brutally early in the morning. Of course it was Bones. At least Spock was in good company.

A card fell out of Jim’s pocket. After a quick couple messages, he knelt down to pick it up.

**Elizabeth Paulsen**

**Professor of Literature, Linguistics**

**University of California || San Diego**

“So her name is Elizabeth.” He flipped the card over where her contact info was listed. He grinned. “Thanks, Elizabeth. I actually want to invite you to my wedding.”

Jim figured he’d cruise home after breakfast. There wasn’t any point in exasperating the situation, but he also wanted to enjoy the ride for the views this time. Maybe he’d get a gift for Bones.

“Oh my god,” Jim gasped as he walked in. Rows of elaborately decorated donuts lined the pastry case. They weren’t small either. Some were as big as Jim’s hands. The guys at the Starfleet office weren’t joking.

Donut Bar is where your health goes to die.

There were too many flavors. Too many decisions. Bacon and Maple, popcorn, cookie dough. Jim had to ask which were the favorites of the people working.

“But did you see that we can make grilled cheese?”

Jim could have collapsed.

“Grilled cheese. With any….? I need two. One with standard old fashioned doughnuts and then I guess the other I’ll try it with the maple bacon.”

Another text.

_"I am going to kill you if you don’t get home soon."_

_"I said breakfast first_

_Plus I’m like 10 hours away._

_fuck off"_

Jim checked the time as he was quietly pulling into his driveway.

2 am.

He took longer than he thought, but even then he did tell Spock 3 days originally. There weren’t any lights on that he could tell from the street. Maybe Spock was asleep.

Their bond was still barely there, Jim figured Spock shielded most of himself away. He ruined his goal of unraveling those most hardened shields of Spock’s. Hopefully Spock would let him try again.

That step onto the front porch was terrifying. His house, their house. Jim didn’t feel welcome. But he had to do what Elizabeth told him. Take the chance, regardless of outcome.

He didn’t know if he should call out Spock’s name or stay quiet. He wasn’t sure if Bones was still there. His foyer, empty. His living room, empty. Kitchen empty. Jim wandered through the first floor and then out onto the deck.

Bones and Spock were looking through a telescope. Bones was telling a story about his childhood.

“Unlike you, I didn’t have easy access to an observatory. I had a shitty telescope out in the backyard that I would mostly use to spy on the neighbors with.”

Spock maneuvered the scope to a particular spot.

“We sit in the outer arm of our galaxy. Yet the fact I can point this telescope in the exact area of the big bang and see where we all came from is still astounding to me. And you’re telling me you used this instrument to spy on your neighbors?”

Jim tip toed closer. He really loved seeing Spock and Bones together. They were his family. Why would he fear this?

“Welcome home.” Spock spoke monotonously. It felt like he was trying too hard to keep his voice level.

“Ten hours, fuck off,” Bones grumbled.

The two turned around waiting for a response. Jim didn’t know how. He was scared of saying the wrong thing to either of them. Bones deserved a thank you, Spock deserved an apology and so much more. Jim just didn’t know where to begin.

“I owe you, Bones,” the sheepishness spilled through. “I appreciate you. You’re a great friend.”

Jim glanced at Spock. Still ever stone-like, yet the exhaustion couldn’t be hidden. It wasn’t hard to tell that Spock was expounding a lot of energy trying to repress his worry.

“I need to talk to Spock alone.”

Bones nodded, shutting the back door behind him. He wasn’t going to be entirely out of sight though. Spock had been through far too much this year already.

“I’m sorry.” He sat next to the Vulcan, keeping his distance. Jim wouldn’t give himself the permission to seek physical touch. “I really freaked out on you, and I don’t know if it was better that I freaked out on you now than rather than later. Like at the wedding itself.”

“I will admit that yes Jim, it hurt.”

“I drove clear down to San Diego. I met a random woman there. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bay and told me I needed to get my shit together and learn to take risks, as I was soaking wet and freezing my ass off. And she’s right. I got really complacent and I forgot what it was like to be that kid again that would push limits.

“And I’m so sorry Spock. I keep toying with you. I’m more involved with myself. That’s not fair. If I was more aware about you. Actually truly invested in your thoughts and wishes and your emotions I’d have known.”

“Jim.”

Spock inched closer to Jim, their thighs touched. He unshielded himself from Jim, letting their bond flourish once more.

“If you don’t want to have a wedding—“

“But you do. I just barely realized it then, and I know it now. I don’t fucking care anymore about how I feel about it. I begged you for a fucking meld two years ago, you complied. You shouldn’t have and you knew it, and here we are. All you’ve asked me was to marry you. I’ll marry you. I’ll give you the best fucking wedding, Spock.”

Their fingers brushed against each other. Spock’s relief spun around in a flurry through Jim.

“You will marry me?”

“Yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into self indulgence. I SHOULD be in San Diego. I SHOULD be having fun with some friends and strangers alike. But apparently you know, pandemic. Also if you can't tell I really adore Dostoevsky, I cannot apologize for my bad allusions. I blame covid brain.


	8. Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A weeding? A real Terran wedding?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you all haven't noticed I really like flowers.

Jim told Spock the entire story. He didn’t lie or beat around the bush. Spock said he wasn’t upset, but Jim knew it was just another mistake he had to rectify. In response, Spock was more silent than normal. All Jim could do was tell himself that it was better to have told the truth rather than hide it. At least Jim knew he couldn’t fully reciprocate anyone else’s advances.

He woke up early again. All week. Once it hit 4 am, Jim awoke and couldn’t find any way to fall asleep. He tried melatonin, but that made him feel like he was experiencing sleep paralysis. So then he tried to read, but he didn’t have the concentration for it. His last attempt was to go out for a run and physically tire himself.

Jim would never consider himself a runner. He ran because he had to, not really for pleasure. But this morning, he finally obtained the runner’s high. The weightlessness carried him through to a beautiful sunrise. The oranges and pinks were euphoric.

Even though Spock was still uneasy about what happened in San Diego, Jim was finally at peace with everything. He gave Spock full permission to do as he pleased with the wedding ceremony. In fact, Spock didn’t want Jim to know anything.

He came back home, it was only 6 am. He still wasn’t even tired. Spock was awake, but extremely calm. Perhaps he was doing yoga. Meditating. Both. Jim made sure he entered without making too much noise.

Spock was in a headstand. His shirt falling over his face. Every time Jim saw Spock in an inversion he wanted to stroke his stomach. He wanted to see if his feet were ticklish. Every time Spock merely muttered “no.”

One day, Jim thought. He smiled and replicated himself some avocado toast and eggs, thinking about just how much he wanted to go back into the living room and watch him.

Jim learned quickly how introspective yoga was for Spock. It wasn’t just an hour of exercise and decompression. It was Spock’s time to be fully aware of his self and his place in the world. Other than the morning he practiced with Winona, Spock preferred to do it alone and be alone. The morning Jim found this out was not long after he’d been sleeping over various nights at Spock’s apartment. He accidentally interrupted Spock’s practice. It was one of the few times before his Pon Farr that Jim saw Spock somewhat mad.

So he took his breakfast outside. He watched the honeybees make their early morning trips to collect nectar. At first Jim thought it was absurd of Spock to invest so much in flowers for the back deck, but sitting out here he got it. There was the tranquility of being within nature, of being an outsider watching the Earth work as it should.

But if Spock ever mentioned beekeeping he’d shut it down fast.

The sapphire glinted against the light. Jim still wasn’t used to it. He’d mindlessly fiddle with the ring on his finger. He’d forget it was there and then some sort of light would catch just right and it would glimmer brilliantly. He was even convinced he saw the inlayed gem glow purple the other night. Jim was distracted yet again, just staring at the twisted metal. It really was a beautiful ring, and it really was something only Spock could conceive. When he was told it wasn’t even the final iteration, Jim’s heart fluttered in panic. He still hadn’t asked why he chose sapphire.

“Your eyes.” Spock wrapped his arms around Jim for a quick good morning hug. He hadn’t done that in a couple of weeks. “I’m always fascinated with your eyes.”

“And so, what does your ring look like?”

“You’ll find out when you put it on my finger.”

Spock wasn’t letting up on the secrecy. Jim tried to nose his way in to learn about something, anything. Yesterday it was about where. All Spock said was that it was going to be outside.

“Speaking of which, my mom’s been asking me if there’s a date.”

“Then I will tell her.”

“You won’t even tell me!?”

“Maybe later.”

“Do I get to know anything? Or am I going to wake up one morning and you’re going to tell me that today is the day, look nice?”

A slight smile. “I considered doing that to you, after all you deserve it.”

_Ouch._

“But you will receive an invitation just like everyone else.”

_Double Ouch._

Yes, Vulcans can be very petty. Jim was getting the brunt of it. He did deserve it, he hoped his implicit feelings let Spock know just how much he deserved it. It was still a bit jarring for him to hear Spock say something cruel and petty, and then feel it within their bond. It was knowing someone treaded on Spock’s territory that made the betrayal linger within him.

“How possessive can Vulcans get? Like if not full jealousy then what? Territorial?” Jim didn’t really know how to tread carefully on this topic. He could feel the strain between each other. Jim figured he might as well plunge in.

“Very.” He averted his eyes away from Jim. “I feel it, but I don’t particularly enjoy feeling possessive or territorial over you. I suppose it’s the Vulcan versus the Human genealogy within me.”

“Yeah I get that. It’s why I’m asking. I know I betrayed you. I was a fucking moron. I just don’t know what to expect.”

“What happened has passed.” He held out his hand. “I will eventually come to terms. I appreciate you telling me the truth. You were only trying to understand the function of our bond and its limitations. It is quite illogical for me to be feeling like this.”

Jim grabbed Spock’s hand, squeezing it. He was comforted knowing that Spock wasn’t at all angry in this moment. There were flickers of confusion and disappointment, and rightfully so. He was just glad the anger was gone.

“It’s not illogical. Everything I’ve done to you? You have every right to feel what you feel.”

“Jim?”

Spock dropped all the negative feelings he’d been holding in. There was only adoration that struck Jim in every corner of his mind, an unwavering flow of love he hadn’t felt before.

“From the very first moment I encountered you, I knew you would be an incredibly difficult and sometimes intolerable human to know. Yet I still pursued you. I love you very much.”

He pulled his hand away and ran his fingers through Jim’s hair, still drenched with sweat. “If I ever start treating you like a possession of mine, I hope you’ll tell me.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you. Even if I do think the idea of it is pretty arousing.”

The thought of Spock owning every physical and mental part of his existence was an enticing thought. The Vulcan holding him down, telling him when he could move when he could scream in pleasure…

“I was going to join you in the shower, but after those thoughts I’m not so sure.”

Jim chased after Spock who casually went back into the house.

“No! Don’t you dare taunt me like that!”

“September 22nd.”

“What about it?”

“They day I’m marrying you.”

They were in bed. Jim straddling Spock, kissing him for no reason other than the fact that he could.

“You also have a fitting today.”

“For what?”

_How could Spock keep so collected while I’m dousing him in kisses?_

“Your suit.”

“No formal uniform?” He sat up again, starting to trace the petals of Spock’s tattoo with his fingers.

“I’d rather this day have minor influence from Starfleet.”

“Respectable decision. But I had plans.”

“You’ll have to cancel them.”

“I don’t want to cancel them.” He started kissing Spock again, this time grabbing his hands. “Do you really want to cancel this?”

Spock groaned, he couldn’t hold off his arousal anymore. “You’ll need to be quick and efficient.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So he’s planning an entire wedding and you won’t know anything about it until you actually show up?”

“I didn’t even know I had this fitting today until two hours ago.”

The tailor, continuing to lay out swatches, started laughing. “That’s brilliant. That’s actually really freaking brilliant.” He held up a few swatches, comparing them to Jim’s skin tone. “Well, I think you’ll like what he’s planned out for you to wear.”

“It’s a suit, how fancy can it get?”

“Oh no shit, a standard suit is pretty basic. But your guy isn’t basic. Dude, I don’t even believe he’s Vulcan.”

“Trust me, he’s Vulcan.” Jim watched the tailor, he was deciding between two swatches. To the untrained eye, the color would have been the same, a cold stone grey color.

_So that’s why he asked me that a few months ago._

“The one on the left?” Jim leaned over, trying to see what the tailor was trying to see. “I mean I dunno what you’re even looking for.”

“Simply, one that looks good on you,” He led Jim into a different corner of the room, the sunlight was pouring through the windows like a honey rain. “A color that looks good no matter what kind of light you’re in.”

He chose the color and replicated the fabric, specified by all the measurements. “Put this on, and then I’m gonna see where we need to make adjustments.

Jim never wore a suit in his life. As he stood on the pedestal he was reminded of when he first put on his formal uniform. It was slightly overwhelming to see himself in such a drastically different light, but it also boosted his ego.

_It’s not even completely fitted and I am looking really good in this._

“What does Spock’s look like?”

“I am sworn to secrecy.”

“Of course.”

“I mean, you’re both wearing suits. It’s not like a full gown that can be customized 700 different ways with another 300 different profiles. Not gonna lie, I’d rather tailor suits than dresses any day. Then again, even after I get this perfectly AHEM suited to you, I’ve got a lot of stitching to work on.”

Jim was handed a pair of dress shoes, “compliments of your husband,” the tailor said. Spock outdid himself again. It was meticulous planning on Spock’s part. Jim really had no idea how much thought had been going into it. On first glance, Jim could point out the shoes were traditional wingtips, brilliantly constructed. They weren’t replicated, entirely hand made, and upon closer inspection he could only sigh.

The normal perforations found on the shoes were actually Vulcan inscriptions. What they said, Jim couldn’t guess. His heart leapt. He loved Spock’s attention to detail, his symbolism, his very quiet but ultimately loud expressions of his endearment. While the tailor continued to mark and clip areas of the fabric, he talked about all the inscriptions he was going to hand stitch.

“None of them on the outside. All of it on the inside. I can’t tell you what they say—“

“Because it’s a secret,” Jim interrupted.

“But, I will tell you that I’m nervous just thinking about it. I’ve never stitched Vulcan before.”

“Really beautiful written language,” Jim sighed.

“Surprised there aren’t more niche aesthetic artists out there using it.”

“So, am I wearing a bow tie or what?”

The tailor brightened. “Oh dude, the tie is my favorite thing!” He rushed over to one of the drawers and pulled out a box. He pulled out a black tie covered in flowers.

“Spock commissioned me originally to create this pattern. And then when he found out I also work as a tailor he just hired me to do everything.”

Dahlias, sunflowers, forget-me-nots. Jim knew the story about the dahlias, but he wanted to know about the sunflowers and the forget-me-nots. Those little blue flowers surprised Jim the most.

“Sarek, don’t start.”

Amanda held up her hand when the two greeted Spock for lunch. Sarek of course was never a fan of tattoos, and Spock’s newest one was pushing the limits.

“He will cover his entire body-“

“He will not tattoo his entire body,” she muttered. “Maybe if you listened when he explained it, you wouldn’t be concerned about it.”

Spock and Winona already had a table. They chose a French patisserie, mostly as punishment for Sarek. At first Winona was against it, but the croissants swayed her.

“Mother, father.” Spock bowed, he lead them to their table.

Sarek stopped short of sitting down. He saw Winona, wondering why she looked so familiar.

“I have…met you before.”

Amanda bit her lip, she saw the blush and the fear on his face. It was like watching a kid get caught red handed.

“You have,” Winona smiled. “Four years ago I was touring educational facilities and you happened to be the one feeding me propaganda about Vulcan.”

She couldn’t hold it in, Amanda started laughing. “What else can you expect from the ambassador!”

The two women shook hands. They started talking as if they had known each other for years. Sarek was still flabbergasted at Winona’s response, no matter how deftly logical she was in making her point, he wasn’t expecting the phrasing to sound so crude. Winona was obviously told about what happened when Jim met them for the first time, so maybe she had a point to defend her son.

“Where is James by the way,” Sarek asked. He mostly wanted to interrupt the musing between Amanda and Winona about the wedding. The thought of his son being married was still a deeply repressed disbelief.

“Late,” Spock sighed. “As usual.”

“As usual?”

“He was late for breakfast yesterday.”

“Oh and he was late coming home after he said he’d show up at a certain time,” Winona interjected.

“Late for counseling,” Spock continued.

“So you are getting counseling,”Amanda asked.

“Counseling?” Sarek looked around the table. It seemed to have been common knowledge that Spock and Jim were considering marriage counseling. “Why are you engaging in counseling, Spock? Why was I not told?”

“Because, my dear sweet husband, you’d make a scene.” Amanda gave his knee a squeeze. “They’re new at this, why not get help?”

“If you would follow a logical course-“

“Before you give me marital advice Sarek, I advise you don’t.” Spock folded his arms. “At what point has my relationship ever been logical. I would like to attempt a more human method.”

Sarek decided it wasn’t logical to fight it. He simply nodded.

“Even if he doesn’t show up, I still want a lovely lunch with all of you.” Winona tried to change the subject. She learned from Spock how touchy Sarek is over his marriage, and how his compromise still didn’t absolve him of insulting Jim. Winona wanted to get to know Amanda and Sarek from themselves, not from Spock’s stories. Like all kids, stories about their parents would always be exaggerated, fueled by embarrassment or unresolved resentment.

“I’m sure he’ll show up,” Amanda said.

“If he’s nervous he’ll stall,” Winona sighed. It reminded her of all the times Jim made excuses. “He’ll avoid it. It’s always been a weakness of his. Running away from his problems. Never truly confronting his fears.”

“Ah, so very relatable to Spock.”

He averted his eyes from Amanda. “Mother, suppose we should choose another topic.”

She saw the uncertainty flash across Spock’s face. It wasn’t just about being embarrassed by his mother and mother-in-law fussing over their children’s bad habits. He was still much like Sarek, stubborn and resolute. Vulcan. Spock’s foray into the Terran lifestyle was still very new, Amanda imagined how overwhelming it must be at times.

Sarek saw it as well. The confidence slightly dwindling. At least he could relate. His own budding relationship with Amanda made him question his morals and values. With logic there didn’t need to be morals, or did there?

“Spock,” Sarek asked. There was an astonishing amount of emotion in his voice, although to a typical human it would have gone unnoticed, “is everything okay?”

Spock stared at the table, he couldn’t stand to look at anyone now. Sarek asking him how he was? Very unlike his father. A very illogical thing to ask. Unless it was logical. He shook his head to drive away the circular argument.

“I am…nervous.”

“Hold still you idiot,” Bones grabbed onto Jim’s wrist. He was sitting on the dining table, where Bones told him it would give him more leverage. “This will hurt.”

The sincerity in Bones’ voice made Jim squirm even more. He was already in a bunch of pain, he was already late for his lunch date with his family, and this was supposed to hurt?

Then again this was all his fault. Maybe Jim shouldn’t have rode on his bike as carelessly as he did. He was nervous and he didn’t quite feel like admitting it. So instead of heading to lunch with Spock and Winona, he made a poorly crafted excuse about finalizing a project. Jim just wanted to cruise on his bike and think. And maybe cruising up and down Lombard wasn’t the best idea. He was distracted. He wasn’t cornering properly. The streets were wet. That second to last corner was sharper than he remembered.

He knew something was wrong when he sat up. There wasn’t any feeling in his arm until he tried moving it. When he looked down it finally dawned on Jim: dislocated shoulder. Don’t try moving it. The call he made to Bones was a nightmare. The doctor was full on yelling at Jim to stop being a stubborn shit and go to a clinic. Alas, he showed up at Jim’s house.

Bones gripped Jim’s wrist even tighter. It wasn’t the first dislocation he’s dealt with. Thankfully there weren’t any broken bones, just a bad case of road rash.

Jim screamed as Bones reset his shoulder. For once it wasn’t hyperbole. It hurt. It hurt more than dislocating it in the first place. If he didn’t have breakfast that morning, Jim was sure he could have passed out.

He hopped off the table and while trying to walk off the pain he muttered every profanity he could think of. Half of it was unintelligible.

“I said it would hurt.”

“It fucking did!” Jim bent over grabbing his shoulder, trying to take deep breaths. “Fucking shit!”

“You could have done a lot more damage, Jim.” He scanned his shoulder to make sure it really was back in place. “That bike coulda hooked you and dragged you into a house.”

“Fuck,” he ran a hand through his hair. “I gotta get going. I’m late. I’m really fucking late.”

He grabbed his jacket, still trying to keep his arm from moving. “Bones feel free to hang out here as long as you like. I hate to call and then ditch you, but I am really really late for an important date.”

Bones cocked a brow. He frowned. Some days he wondered if he was more of a person of convenience rather than a friend.

“I’ll fucking throw you down that god damn rabbit hole,” he muttered.

The pain subsided as Jim traveled to the patisserie. He rushed inside and hoped they were still seated. 24 minutes late. Abysmal.

“I am so sorry you guys,” Jim took his seat next to Spock who only glanced at him. “I got held up.”

“Held up?” Winona could see through his lie, but it was up to Jim to admit it.

“Okay I took a spill while on my way here so I had to detour back to a friend’s house.”

“Not quite the truth,” Winona thought, “that kid still does not know how easily I can see through him.”

Sarek noted the abrasions on Jim’s hand. “A spill? You fell?”

“Eh…not quite.”

“You wrecked your bike didn’t you.” Still no eye contact from Spock.

“I didn’t wreck my bike, I wrecked myself more than anything.” Jim looked around for a menu. “I’m here, aren’t I? And just in time for dessert!”

That afternoon Spock stayed silent. The rest of their lunch wasn’t negative, in fact Jim and Sarek got along a lot better than Spock anticipated. Sarek may have learned more about motorcycle riding than he thought he ever would, but suffice it to say Jim found many stupid and illogical ways to challenge himself. The Vulcan relented. If it worked, then it worked.

Jim wasn’t entirely fond of Spock’s silence. The least Spock could have done was lecture him, or at the very least tell him he was annoyed. Verbally that is, the annoyance was persistent through their bond.

He sat next to his husband, only wanting to be in his presence. Spock’s mind was a flutter of thoughts, still mostly indistinguishable to Jim. A long process for a non-telepath, Jim was still working at trying to fully understand everything through their bond, but at least he could pick out Spock’s declarations of love.

“I love him incredibly, but he’s impossibly stupid,” Jim spoke Spock’s thought out loud. He looked at the book Spock was reading, a language he didn’t know.

“You’re improving.”

“Yeah. And you’re right. I am really fucking stupid.”

“Sometimes. Like today.” Spock wrapped his arm around Jim, pulling him close. Jim flinched, his shoulder was still sore, and the scrapes down his arm were still raw. “Your carelessness is a bit irritating.”

“A bit? Spock you’ve been brooding all day. I think you’re a little bit more than irritated at me.”

He closed his book and tossed it to the floor. “Your carelessness is dangerous. I was sitting in that establishment knowing something was wrong, yet I was unable to fully understand why. Sarek had to ask if I was okay. If something much worse happened to you, I would be…devastated.”

Jim couldn’t bear it. He pulled Spock into a tight hug, clinging onto him. “What if you died,” shot through him at all directions. The pain in Jim’s shoulder was nothing compared to the pain emanating from Spock.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Spock kissed Jim’s forehead, thinking about how much they still had to mature. Counseling would be good for them. Despite their bond, the two of them weren’t entirely thinking of themselves as a team, or as a single entity. Yet how could they when everything came crashing upon them so suddenly? At least maybe a counselor could help them build a typical human-like bond.

“I apologize. I should not be pushing the blame onto you.” He held up Jim’s head, brushed his thumb over his cheek, and kissed him on the lips. “In two days we will be wed. After that, I promise it will just be us. No family, no rituals, nothing that will incur stress involving our relationship. It will be you and I.”

“We should probably do something nice for Bones.”

“Logically sound.”

Jim lied his head on Spock’s chest. The heat radiating from Spock soothed him. He hoped he could spend all evening here in silence.

It shouldn’t have been a mistake. Spock rarely makes them. Bones handed Jim the coordinates. Hand written. So why was it when they beamed to the spot, they ended up in a field of sunflowers?

“Are you sure he gave you the right coordinates?”

Bones straightened out Jim’s suit jacket and tie. “I saw him write it down himself. He told me exactly what to do with them. That’s what I did.”

“So what? Do we just stand here? Spock’s been on me all fucking week about being late for shit, he’d never let me live it down if I were late to my own wedding!”

“Jim, calm down. How about I go this way,” he pointed west, “and you go that way,” he pointed north, “and if either one of us finds the reception area we can holler at each other.”

Since last night, Jim had gotten more nervous. He woke up without Spock next to him, a disappointment. He then was taken by his mother to the tailor and then to a barber shop, both of which was embarrassing. Winona fussed over him the entire time. She then handed him over to Bones whose job it was to bring Jim to the ceremony.

“Fine. I’ll call you if I find it.”

Bones of course smirked when Jim traversed through the sunflowers in the obviously right direction. Spock’s wrong coordinates were entirely planned out.

They were somewhere in the Cascades. It was still warm, with a slight chilly breeze that signified the beginning of fall. There wasn’t a sound other than the ripples of the sunflowers’ petals. It made Jim even more flustered.

“Stupid Bones probably read them wrong,” Jim muttered. He inched his way through the dirt, he worried his suit was going to get scraped up, his shoes were already getting dusty. These weren’t small sunflowers, either. The stalks were as thick as his forearms, they towered over him. “No Jim! They’re right!” He mocked Bones. “… stupid, stupid, stupid…”

He tripped over his own foot trying to squeeze through some of the stalks, his face hitting one of them. “Fucking damn it!”

This wasn’t how he imagined his day turning out. He figured Spock was going to tell him to meet at some elaborate outdoor venue. Who knows, maybe it still was. Then again the flowers were a telltale symbol of Spock’s. And come to think of it, he couldn’t feel anything from their bond.

“Spock,” Jim called out, still moving forward. “Bones?! Where the hell is everyone?!”

Two more minutes. Two more, then he’d call Bones and force him to confirm the original coordinates. Yet there seemed to be an open space ahead…

Jim brushed a sunflower aside and walked into a small meadow. Spock was sitting on a small white stool, reading. He was surrounded by flowers on all sides, the mountains rose in the distance, snow covering the tallest peaks. The scenery was like stepping into a painting. Jim could barely grasp at the beauty before him.

“You missed the mark by two tenths of a mile, sweetie.”

Spock looked up from his book. Jim started to notice it before, but today he was looking more mature, more grown. The boyish features he had when they first met were fading away.

“I apologize for that.” He set his book down. “I hope I didn’t cause you any inconvenience.”

“Tripping over sunflowers was not really in my plans today.” Jim stumbled into the meadow looking around for signs of anyone else. It seemed like they were alone. He grabbed Spock’s hand, his cheeks were red hot. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Spock’s suit mirrored Jim’s. Jet black with a stone grey tie with the same floral pattern. His hair was perfectly coiffed. Nails perfectly buffed. He smelled of lavender. Jim resisted the urge to throw himself at Spock.

The Vulcan grabbed a corsage of forget-me-nots that was lying next to the stool. He pinned them to Jim’s lapel, and brushed his thumb over his cheek.

“I cannot utter words in this language or my own that can describe how radiant you are in my eyes, or even how much I truly love you.” His passion for Jim burned throughout his body. The abundance of love rippling through their bond crashed like river rapids. “And I am so —blessed— I can spend every waking moment with you for the rest of my life. To be of two worlds and find comfort in neither of them, certainly made finding someone like you impossible. Yet here you are staring at me with your beautiful blue eyes, telling me to defy all convention.”

The kiss was chaste, but so deliciously sweet. Spock never needed verbal words to express himself. He rarely let himself show his emotions, but today was different. They were alone. Spock spoke with conviction in his voice, he let all his shields down. His eyebrows furrowed, he smiled, he let his eyes widen and well up with tears. In comparison, the kiss didn’t mean anything when Spock bared his soul for the world to see.

“I love you so much Spock. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you!” Jim pulled him into a tight amorous hug. “I don’t know what else to say! I’m marrying you! I get to marry the most treasured being in the universe and no one is even here to fucking hear me yell all of this!”

“We heard all of it.”

Jim ripped himself away from Spock. He turned to the direction of the voice. Christopher Pike held out his arms. “All around you two there’s people here who care about you both and wish you the very best.”

All their friends and family stepped out from the field into the meadow. They were all holding their own favorite flowers. Winona was holding white roses; Sarek held orchids; Amanda had hydrangeas. Jim spotted Nyota with hibiscus, even Bones was holding marigolds. What shocked Jim the most was seeing his most notable past significant others standing side-by-side holding pink roses, a sign of gratitude and well wishes for the future.

“They don’t get the best job though which is for a ship’s captain, even if said ship is still being built.” Pike continued. He pulled Jim into a hug. “You joined Starfleet on a bet and now you’re getting married. I always knew you’d live up to your name.”

Pike pulled away, disallowing himself to get too emotional. He was proud of Jim, though. The kid came a long way from brawling in a bar to an upstanding cadet.

“Spock? Do you take James Tiberius Kirk as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Spock held Jim’s hands and kissed the right and then the left. “I do.”

“And James, do you take —“

“—S'chn T’gai—“ Spock interjected.

“—Spock, as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Jim couldn’t contain his tears, “I do.”

Bones approached them holding an ornate glass plate with the wedding rings lying atop. “The couple may exchange their rings.”

Spock slid the familiar sapphire ring onto Jim’s finger. He was overwhelmed looking at it. The engagement band fit snuggly inside the wedding band. It was lined with diamonds.

“I love you, James Kirk,” he whispered.

“I love you too Spock, whose full name I’ll always butcher.”

He held Spock’s ring for the first time. The same design, ladened in obsidian and garnets. Jim couldn’t stop staring at it once it was on Spock’s finger.

Pike grabbed on to both Spock and Jim’s shoulders. “You two are going to make an incredible team. I am so fortunate to pronounce that you are married! Please everyone, let’s celebrate this beautiful moment!”

Their guests clapped and cheered.

“Every mistake I ever made led up to this and I am so glad I made them,” Jim cried.

“Here is to our mistakes; past, present, and future.”

Spock brushed his fingers against Jim’s. He pulled him into a deep passionate kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't explain it in the actual fic, but Spock's obsidian and garnet ring reflects the "smouldering ash" motif. There is one more chapter after this. A short epilogue. It still leaves things open-ended so if I come back in another 5 years I can follow up on it.


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They lived happily ever after.

The low chime of his alarm steadily grew louder. Jim groaned wishing he could go back to sleep, but he had a busy day ahead of him. A few meetings and administrative work on top of running training drills with the junior bridge crew. He could do without the duty rosters and spend all day on the bridge, but if he ignored one, three would show up.

“Good morning, captain. It is 07:00 hours. Today on your schedule you have a meeting with lieutenants Reed and Foster at 08:30 hours. Due to personal reasons sited you are scheduled off the bridge today for administrative duties.”

Jim wasn’t sure if he liked the morning rundown from the ship’s computer.It was some new thing Starfleet wanted them to test out. General schedules would be read aloud and made visible. Jim just wanted to wake up like a normal person for once.Or maybe he just didn’t like the ship’s computer knowing more than he did.

“Computer, what personal reasons did I site?”

“It is your fifth wedding anniversary.”

He flopped back onto his bed. “Fuck, that’s right.”

“Computer, where’s Commander Spock?”

“Commander Spock is in shuttle bay 2.”

He made himself presentable. Combed hair, clean shirt, a cup of coffee. He headed for the shuttle bay.

The mood on the ship lately was cheery. Despite the mundane work of star mapping, the crew was finding ways to keep entertained. Nyota was holding her own trivia nights in the mess hall, Sulu held gardening classes. Most surprisingly, Spock hosted movie nights. Jim asked about it, but all Spock would say is that cinema should be studied just as any other art form.

So in his words, he liked movies and wouldn’t fully admit to enjoying Hitchcock.

He walked past a couple of ensigns.

“Dude I can’t wait for shore leave next month. I wanna get a tattoo, and I’ll finally have the time to do it.”

“First one?”

“Yeah!”

“You should talk to Commander Spock. He’s got some pretty cool ink.”

Jim bowed his head low so no one could see him smile like an idiot. It was a favorite thing of his to do. He’d wander the decks of his ship listening to gossip, who were people admiring, who was causing issues. Some days it never really felt like he left the academy. He wondered if the other starships had such enticing gossip.

But it was when people talked about Spock that Jim really listened. The worst he’d hear were people saying he’s a hard ass but that’s just because they didn’t quite know how to deal with a Vulcan. Well that and also Spock was sometimes very much a particular hard ass that needed to lighten up. They had many conversations over the years about it. All of which ended with Jim straddling Spock and smothering him with kisses.

The shuttle bay was fairly empty, no need for them any time soon. He wondered why Spock was here.

“Hey,” he leaned against the shuttle. Spock was lying out supplies on the floor, taking inventory.

“Captain.” He refrained from looking up from his tablet, but the burning desire from Jim made it difficult. “Jim.”

“How long have you been working down here?”

“Two hours.”

“And you can’t get someone else to do this?”

Spock sighed. “You requested that I take inventory of both shuttles due to the fact that an abundance of supplies could lead to saving someone’s life or the lack thereof could harbor death and that I was solely the only person on this ship that you’d trust to perform such a count.”

He thought back to the conversation. An ensign had made an error supplying the shuttle with all its necessary supplies. It was a complete mistake, but he didn’t like the idea of traveling without an emergency supply of water, or rations, or even a med kit. Jim wasn’t sure how anyone could make such an error in common sense, all he could do was reiterate how important it was to make sure everything was logged and triple checked.

“If you need any help—“

“I am almost finished.”

Jim frowned. He walked around all the items lying on the floor, acting like he was inspecting Spock’s method. When Spock stayed silent, he sighed and purposefully made it annoyingly audible.

“It is our anniversary and you’re spending it counting things when I should have woken up in your arms.”

“Jim, my sweet. I have not forgotten.” He approached Jim and made a rare public display of affection; a kiss on the cheek. “I suggest eating breakfast. Your scheduled duties will not take long. The crew knows it’s our anniversary, they will not expect much from us unless there is an absolute emergency.”

“And what can I expect from you, Commander?”

“You can expect a detailed inventory of both shuttles in a half hour.” He went back to his task.

“Spock, sweetie, t’hy’la.”

“If you keep pestering me my love I will not complete this inventory on time.”

Spock relished in making Jim beg. On the bridge or in front of the crew he’d be obtusely Vulcan and it would drive Jim insane. In private, whenever Jim decided to blend their working relationship and their private relationship together, Spock would purposely not play along. All just to get Jim to beg and plead with him.

The expected response: Jim pouting. “Spock. I’m not talking about inventories or admin. I’m talking about us? Our anniversary? Humor me. Just, what do you want to do for the rest of the day?”

“I considered kissing you.”

“Yes.”

“Whispering in your ear.”

“I like that.”

“Pinning you to the wall.”

“Mmhmm!”

“But of course, that would be a breach of regulation.”

Jim threw his arms up. “I give up. You’re impossible. You are the worst!” He started to leave the shuttle bay.

Spock smiled.

He huffed because he fell for it again. Always falling for Spock’s games. Maybe he enjoyed the playful bickering and that’s why he let himself fall for it.

“Oh come on! Just say it,” he yelled across the room. Thankfully no one else was there, otherwise he wouldn’t have being so purposefully dramatic. “You wanna throw me down and fuck me to the point where I can’t think straight!”

“Captain,” Spock continued playing the straight man, truly enjoying how red in the face with embarrassment Jim was. Spock was also inundating him with graphic images of himself blowing Jim while a conference call was happening.

“Truly unbecoming behavior for a commanding officer. How can I expect you to raise our children if you cannot simply abide by protocol?”

Jim was flustered at this point. Listening to Spock spout on about protocol while he was being flooded with desires of workplace sex and graphic images involving himself being tied to a bed post. He needed air.

“I’m not through with you Commander.” He stormed out of the shuttle bay.

Spock could only continue his inventory and wait for Jim to come storming back. Or better yet, he’d file his inventory report and meet Jim in his ready room.

_Fucking nerve of him to do that to me! And every time I fall for it! He starts out all sweet and then he tries to compromise me in front of everyone! And—_

Jim stopped in the middle of the hall.

“Did he?”

He ran back to the shuttle bay.

“Spock you can’t just talk about kids! That’s a mistake we can’t afford to make! We actually have to talk about that!”

Jim looked around, the bay was empty.

“Spock!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank all of you for reading! I love this universe so much and to think it started because a fantastic artist on tumblr conceived an idea of a Punk!Spock. I hope they're having a good life. 
> 
> I may add some one-shots, who knows. All I know is that these two nerds will be happy and eventually grow into their roles. I also do not doubt for a second that Spock hotboxes the observation deck on occasion while Jim has absolutely no idea.


End file.
